


Music Shop

by failing_gloriously



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-03-29 10:13:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failing_gloriously/pseuds/failing_gloriously
Summary: Therese Belivet and Carol Aird each feel like they are just maybe starting to get their messy lives straightened out. But when Therese finds herself in the quaint central California beach town of Santa Cecelia with plans to open her own music shop, fate brings their paths together and a relationship sparks that is anything but uncomplicated.





	1. Wind Chimes

**December 22**

 

    Therese stopped abruptly on the sun-warmed pavement, several feet short of the door, and suddenly found that her legs would carry her no further. She was staring at the ornate golden letters scrawled across the pane of glass in front of her. The sign had seen better days; the script was cracked and peeling in places and small sections had been rubbed off entirely; but the words were still clearly legible and she felt a great pang in her chest as she took them in. ‘BELIVET'S’ it read. Then underneath in a slightly smaller type, ‘FINE CHINA AND ELEGANT HOUSEWARES’. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, then cursed Dannie under her breath.     

   Though they’d arrived in Santa Cecelia over two weeks ago, this was Therese’s first visit to what was to be the home of their new business venture. When the lawyer had given her the keys (with a great deal of unnecessary pageantry and fanfare in her opinion _)_ she’d unceremoniously handed them off to Dannie and Phil and asked if they wouldn’t mind taking point on clearing everything out without her. They had kindly agreed and better still, they didn’t ask too many questions. Therese guessed they probably assumed that seeing everything would bring up too many painful emotions for her relating to death and the loss of a loved one. She didn’t bother to correct them though this hadn’t been the case at all. Truthfully, Therese didn't want to see anything that had belonged to _that woman_ because she didn't want to be confronted with any visible evidence of the life she had lived here in this happy, sunny little beach town, while her own daughter had been left abandoned and alone, over two thousand miles away. Though the guys had finally given her the 'coast-is-clear’ that morning, this last lingering testimony to Marie Belivet’s existence here was an obvious oversight. Therese warned herself not to be cross with them however. She knew Dannie and Phil cared about her greatly, they wouldn’t have followed her out to California if they didn't, and they could never have guessed the kind of gut-wrenching blow those six little words would leave her with.

   Therese was still standing rooted to the same spot on the sidewalk, eyes tightly closed, and thinking about how good it would feel to throw a rock right through the glass that boasted the offending letters. Fortunately for the sake of all windows concerned, she was lifted out of her stormy thoughts by the pleasant, musical tinkling of wind chimes somewhere near by. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around to locate the source of the sound.

   The street was home to a hodgepodge of weathered little beach cottages and shops that seemed to have been thrown together without rhyme or reason. The place looked markedly well-worn; but the aged porches that held twin rocking chairs or flourishing succulent gardens, nestled between shop windows with colorful signs and displays, also gave the distinct impression that this place was well loved and well cared for by its residents and proprietors. However upon Therese’s examination, neither the bicycle shop to the left or the little blue bungalow on right were home to the chimes.

   Stepping backwards off the curb, she looked up to take in for the first time the little second story flat that sat atop what was once Belivet’s Fine China. The face of the dwelling was set back a few feet from her own shop front, making room for a long wrap-around porch. Through the white railing Therese could see a bright red door; a big picture window framed with light, gauzy curtains and a daisy adorned flower box; and a small bench swing. As her eyes continued upwards she noticed the little twinkle lights that hung from the end of the rafters. That would be a cozy spot to sit at night, Therese mused, in the glow of the fairy lights, swinging gently to the lull of the waves crashing on the nearby shore, and watching people come and go on the street below.

    She followed the looping line of lights along the overhang until she finally found the original subject of her investigation. Therese cracked a grin at the sight of them; the wind chimes were as random and assorted as were the building faces on this street. What looked to be piece of sun-bleached driftwood was dripping with odd bits of assorted metal and sea glass tied together with fishing wire. Therese could make out a fork and a handful of bent spoons, numerous keys, a tiny toy car, glasses frames, a string of interlaced soda tabs, and what looked like several pieces of tarnished jewelry. The sun was shining through the bits of colored glass, causing them to glow with life, and she decided the whole effect was quite attractive.

   Therese had harbored a particular fondness for wind chimes since she was a young girl.

   The group home she’d spent much of her childhood in hadn’t been a terribly homey place. The rooms were spartan and impersonal. Decoration beyond the basics was not provided. Of course you could pin up photographs or line your bed with stuffed animals, or cover it with a beloved quilt... if you had any of those things. Therese did not. This was all fine of course for the majority of the children who came through the home in rapid succession, leaving almost as quickly as they'd arrived; drooling babies and chubby-cheeked little toddlers who were swiftly adopted by couples that were only interested in a young child they could raise as their own. For the older children who had little hopes of being picked by one of these couples, the place often felt painfully plain and grim. Therese and this select group of the slightly older children, 'long-termer's they were called, combated this issue by taking ownership of a section of the woods just off the main grounds. The elderly gaggle of women who ran the place were too old and too busy to go trekking after them, over muddy hills and fallen logs, so the children could enjoy a fair amount of privacy here when they wanted.      

    Having no spending money of their own, they would scour back alleys and dust bins for whatever treasures they could find and bring back to their secret spot. They made swings from worn rubber tires and lengths of old rope. Colorful bottles were hung from the trees like strange Christmas ornaments, and after years of this ritual, the place positively glittered with a kaleidoscopic array of hues. And Therese's favorite- they pieced together dozens of sets of wind chimes from whatever odd bits of scrap metal they could find. She loved the gentle tinkling, clinking noises which seemed to create the perfect accompaniment to the existing birdsong, and which added just a touch of magic to their enchanted garden. The place was eventually dubbed the Garden of Eden. For like the forbidden fruit of the biblical Eden, the children enjoyed the notion that any passerby who dared steal a treasure from their trees would be afflicted with a terrible curse.

    Therese didn't have a long list of happy memories from growing up; but the creation of that sacred spot, the sound of the chimes all around her, this was one of the few that made the mark. So the existence of wind chimes here in this new place, hanging right above her shop no less, calmed Therese in a way that perhaps nothing else could have. The fact that this particular set of chimes appeared to be made up of other people’s discarded trash, like the many treasures of her own childhood, only enhanced the warm feeling they brought. It didn’t matter that her mother’s mark was still on the door. Marie Belivet was gone, and Therese made a decision then and there that she wasn’t going to let that woman cause her any more strife. This was a sign from the universe that marked this space as safe.

   Without hesitating a moment longer, she turned the key in the lock and went in.

 


	2. Neighbor

   Therese was pleased to see that the space was even bigger inside than it had looked from the outside. It was open and airy, with large windows in the front and back, letting in a flood of natural light. The walls were plain, but that could be fixed easily with paint, and in fact, she noticed that Dannie and Phil had already made progress masking off the ceiling and baseboards with blue painter’s tape. _Good bones. Definite potential_ . _Maybe this crazy music shop thing could actually fucking work._     

   She walked over to the center of the room where the moving boxes had all been stacked and pushed together, then covered in a large, clear plastic tarp. She lifted a corner to see that most were filled with the stock of new and vintage records. One of them however, was heaped with assorted small instruments she knew to be Phil’s. She mindlessly picked up a set of delicately painted maracas and began to shake them, humming a made-up little tune as she moved around to inspect the rest of the space. Before long, her shoulders had joined in and her step attained a bouncy quality. Another revolution around the open floor, and Therese was completely lost in the in the music of a spirited orchestra only she could hear. She sashayed around and shook the maracas animatedly. She had been so riddled with nerves and trepidation about coming to this place, worrying that this wild idea of hers would fail miserably, that it felt so incredibly good to finally just let go. In all her unbridled gaiety however, she missed the soft tinkle of the bell that meant the door had opened.

   “He-heh, you dance funny!” said a small voice behind her.

   Therese jumped at the pronouncement and promptly dropped the maracas. “Shit!” she spit, clutching at her pounding heart and turning to see a very small, overall clad human grinning up at her. “I mean, er… shoot,” she revised lamely.

   “It’s okay. I hear my Mom say bad words sometimes too. I evened heard her say…” the child paused, looked around surreptitiously, and cupped her hand to her mouth before whispering, “… the ‘F’ word!” Sheer glee registered on her round little face; she was clearly delighted in the telling of this tale. “She pretended liked she didn’t do it, but I soooo heard her say it!” And then the little girl collapsed into a fit of giggles.

   “Um... who exactly are you little one?”

   “I’m Rindy. I’m six.” She put up three tiny fingers on each hand and held them out to show Therese. “I live on top of you.”

   “Oh, I see,” said Therese, understanding dawning. “With the wind chimes.”

   Rindy started bouncing up and down in uncontainable excitement. “Me and my mom made those! We did it from things we digged up on the beach!”

   Therese couldn’t help but chuckle at the little girl’s unaffected way of phrasing. “Well I thought they were very special and very pretty. Wind chimes are one of my absolute, most favorite things in the world,” she explained. “I'm Therese by the way. But um, Rindy, does your Mom know where you —“

   Therese’s question was cut short by the door erupting open. A tall blonde woman ran through, her expression frantic. Therese immediately noticed she was wearing only one white sneaker on her feet, and brandishing a different, tan colored shoe in her hand as she looked wildly around. Her face softened slightly as her eyes finally zeroed on the small girl and the young woman in the middle of the room. “Nerinda Aird!” came the firm declaration. Therese recognized the restrained fury in her voice that one so often heard employed by exhausted parents with misbehaving children in supermarkets, cinemas, and other public spaces. This could only be the mother.

   Rindy froze, her eyes growing wide as saucers; she did not immediately turn around to face the newcomer.

   “How many times have I told you not to run off without me? I told you to WAIT while I put on my shoes and then I turn around and you are no where in the house to be found! Do you understand how scary that is for me? AND you know you are not supposed to talk to strangers! I just don’t know what to do with you, Rindy.”

   Rindy finally turned to look the woman in the eye and stomped her foot indignantly. “But Mom, she’s NOT a stranger! She’s a _neighbor._ ” Rindy stressed the last word, seemingly perplexed at her mother’s inability to distinguish the two. Then she added, “And she said our wind chimes are the prettiest!” as if this conclusively decided the matter.

    The blonde closed her eyes and sighed. “Rindy, sweet pea, that’s not the point.” However, shaking her head, perhaps deciding that bringing this six year old to understanding was going to take a much longer conversation, she did not go on. Instead she shifted her gaze to Therese for the first time. “I hope she wasn’t bothering you."

   Therese’s eyes had been glued to this woman from the moment she walked in, pouring over every facet of her appearance. She wore simple jeans and a dark sweater, with a white button-down underneath that poked out at the collar and wrists. Her hair was a cool blonde and fell to just below her chin, framing an impeccable, porcelain complexion with equally perfect, beachy waves. Even in only one shoe, the woman managed to look simultaneously glamorous and effortlessly cool. The whole thing was completely bewitching.

   Her awed examination of Rindy’s mother meant Therese was completely caught off guard as the conversation switched directions to her. It took a few moments to grasp what the woman had said and Therese couldn’t seem to find any words to respond. She felt the awkward silence magnify with every passing millisecond. _Say something, dope! MY GOD, SAY SOMETHING,_ she desperately pleaded with herself.

   “She’s um, not great with boundaries. We’re working on it,” the other woman added sheepishly, blessedly filling the silence and wrenching Therese out of her daze.

   “Oh not at all!” she finally chimed, flashing what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Although she did catch me mid-way through a very embarrassing dance number.”

   Rindy giggled, “It was sooo funny, Mama!” but she immediately sobered up at a warning look from her mother.

   “You're a dancer?"

   “Hah! Not in the slightest. No, this one’s,” and she pointed to Rindy, "very correct. My dancing _was_ funny. Actually, the two of us were just getting to know each other really.” Therese was relaxing a little now, thankful to have the child there as a talking point. She continued playfully, “Rindy was telling me a very nice story about her mom.”

   “Oh _really_? Was she now?” The blonde looked over at the little girl who’s eyes had gone very big again, her mouth hanging open in a comical ‘uh-oh’. “What kind of story?”

   Rindy’s face was awash with panic in getting caught telling tales of her mother’s cursing, but Therese winked at the little girl before returning her gaze to the mother. She put on a tone of mock seriousness. “Oh I am terribly sorry, but I simply can’t tell you that,” she sighed, throwing the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. She chanced a glance at Rindy, pleased to see she was positively beaming at this unexpected turn of events. "See, it’s a secret, and Rindy I are friends now. And you mustn't ever break a secret with your friends. Those are just the rules,” she said, putting her hands out palms up, and shrugging.

   “Oh I see! Barely known the neighbor ten minutes and you're both are already in cahoots against me!” she said to Rindy, amusement now in her voice.

   “Sorry Mama, but those are just the rules after all!” Rindy repeated Therese’s line, mimicking the shrugging motion she had made.

   “Well that’s that,” the blonde chuckled. "I’m Carol, by the way. Carol Aird.” She extended her hand to Therese but blushed fiercely, realizing she was still holding the mismatched shoe in it. She hurriedly transferred it to her other hand and hid it behind her back before trying again.

   “Nice to meet you. Therese Belivet,” said Therese, taking the hand.

   Carol’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, Belivet. Belivet as in the China shop that was here?”

   “Uh yea, I guess so.” Therese stopped there, hoping against hope that this would be the end to this line of questioning. But at the inquisitive expression still etched on on Carol’s face, she took a deep breath and soldiered on. "I mean, yes, the woman who owned it, she was my mother. We weren’t close though. Anyway she died, and out of the blue I found out she left me this place in her will.” Therese glanced around for Rindy, afraid maybe she should’t have mentioned the death in front of her, but the tiny girl had taken up the fallen maracas and was now busy shaking them and moving around the floor in imitation of Therese’s earlier dance.

   “Oh, my. I had just assumed she'd retired, closed up shop. I didn’t realize she had passed. I’m sorry for your loss.”

   “Don’t be, it’s not a loss… for me at least,” Therese amended, suddenly considering the possibility that Carol might have known Marie Belivet, and she was being insensitive. “It’s like I said, we weren’t particularly close. Did you know her? How long have you lived above?”

   “No, I can’t really say I did know her, other than as the woman who ran this place. She wasn’t the most, umm, _friendly_." Carol gave a guilty sort of grimace. "Rindy and I have had the upstairs flat for over a year now, but to be honest I probably only interacted with her a handful of times, and usually just 'good morning', 'good evening', that sort of thing. Plus I didn’t really want Rindy coming in here. Rambunctious little girls and china shops don’t usually mix.”

   Therese snorted. “Well, unfriendly sounds about right to me.” She could hear the ugly, callous tone her voice had taken on and was reminded of her resolve not to let Marie Belivet get to her any more. This Carol woman was probably thinking she was completely heartless, talking about her dead mother so indifferently. Normally this kind of thing wouldn't have bothered Therese. She didn't often worry about what other people thought of her; but for some reason, she did find herself caring right now what this woman she'd known for all of two minutes thought.

   “Anyway, it's all in the past now,” Therese went on, relieved to hear her voice had regained it’s usual spirit. “I came out from Minnesota with a few friends and we’re turning this place into a little music shop. Records, some instruments, all that jazz, er no pun intended... so you don't have to worry about Rindy. Rambunctious little girls shouldn't be an issue here.”

   Carol’s eyes shimmered with intensity, and she didn’t take them off Therese as she called into the room, “Rindy, did you hear that? A music shop! That’s going to be an exciting change, hmmm?"

   When the little girl didn’t answer right away, both women turned to find her. Rindy had pulled back the plastic tarp and was elbow deep in the box of instruments, apparently completely unaware as to the conversation that had been going on between her mother and the new neighbor. She pulled out a little red ukulele and held it aloft. “Look mama! Look at this little eensy guitar! Isn’t it so so cute!”

   “Rindy! Ugh, what has gotten into you? Since when has it been okay to go rummaging through other people’s things, or to take something without asking? You know, I would have thought you’d be trying a little harder to be on your best behavior missy… what with Santa coming in just two days and all.”

   “Oops,” Rindy gulped. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m good, I’m good!”

   “You have to _be_ a good girl Rindy, you can’t just say it.” Carol pulled the ukulele out of her hands and handed it to Therese. “I’m so sorry, what must you think? I swear she had some manners at some point.” She gave her daughter a scolding look and Rindy quickly dropped her her gaze to the ground and started shuffling her feet nervously.

   But Therese was grinning. She liked this little one’s spirit and spunky demeanor. She herself always felt so anxious in life, never knowing for certain what she wanted, and every decision seeming impossibly complicated. But here, this girl of only six, was already moving through life with unabashed conviction, going where she wanted and taking what she liked. “No, it’s okay. Really! She seems like a great kid.”

   “Aw, thanks, you’re an angel. We should probably get going, though." Carol held out her hand for Rindy to take. "C’mon snowflake, we’ve got to go get to the Christmas tree lot before all that’s left are the ugly old dead ones.”

   “Mama you said it’s not nice to call stuff ugly. Maybe _you’re_ gonna get coal from Santa!”

   Carol rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I said not to call _people_ ugly, Rindy. And don’t push it. Let's see, I think you’re gonna need to put in a solid two days of good behavior, all the way up through Christmas Eve, if you want to keep your place on Santa's nice list.” She shook the little girl's hand slightly and looked at her with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow in a, 'have I made myself clear?' sort of expression.

    "Okay," Rindy grumbled.

    Carol turned back to Therese and gave her a soft smile. “Listen, it was really nice to meet you, Therese. I can’t wait to see the space when it’s done. Don’t be a stranger okay?”

   “Yea, I’ll um, see you around. Stop in any time. Bye Rindy.”

   Rindy waved enthusiastically and Therese watched the mother and daughter make their exit, smirking as she heard Rindy ask, “Mama, why do you have two lefty shoes? Ooo ooo! Can I wear two different color shoes too?” before the door swung shut behind them. Therese followed their forms until they disappeared past where the window’s view allowed her to see out. She was still thinking about the way Carol had said, ‘you’re an angel’.

 


	3. Inexplicable Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks y'all for the lovely comments. Sorry I don't have time to respond to them all, but I do see them, and I appreciate every one.

**December 24**

 

   Carol was only pretending to be rummaging through the shopping bags in the trunk of her car. Truthfully, she was spying- no she didn’t like that word, especially when applying it to herself- _just... observing_ , the little party that was going on inside the shop below her house. It was late, and dark, but the lights were aglow inside and from her parking spot behind the building Carol had a clear view of the cheery trio through the back window of McElroy Music.

   That was the new name now, McElroy Music. As Carol had passed by earlier that day she had noticed the handsome new sign hanging over the entrance. The glass on the door that had long borne the name ‘Belivet’s' was scrubbed clean and shining. A little paper sign affixed to it had read 'COMING SOON!’

   Therese, that strange but enchanting being she had met the day before, was leaning coolly against against a support post, chatting animatedly with two young men Carol hadn’t seen before. They were both fairly good looking, with the same dark hair and eyes. She guessed these must be the ‘friends’ Therese had come with from Minnesota. One of them was wearing a Santa hat and wielding a bottle of champagne. She watched as he expelled the cork and they all cheered, throwing their arms in the air as foam spurted from the mouth. The ‘Santa’ tipped it back and took a long swig straight from the bottle, then passed it on to Therese. She took her own great big swallow before coming up laughing.     

   Carol couldn’t remember the last time she had felt that care free; when you could be someplace completely unremarkable, drinking straight from a cheap bottle of alcohol, and still it was the most fun you'd ever had. Even when she had been as young as Therese, _she can’t be more than what? 23? 24?_ , her life had already been so full of conflict and strife that there hadn’t been many occasions for casual merriment. Maybe a few times with Abby throughout the years, when Harge was away on business, _or whatever he told me was business_ , and she could forget about her real life for a weekend. And of course she also loved every moment she'd shared with her daughter once Rindy had come along. But you could never really let go when you had a child to take care of, always worrying about their happiness.

   She watched as the ‘Santa’ whipped off his hat and gently place it on Therese’s head before taking her hand and pulling her into a dance. They bounded around the room as the other gentleman pretended to play an invisible electric guitar with great zeal. Carol couldn’t help but wonder if the dancing pair were an item. _No, I don’t think so,_ she decided. _The way they are dancing - like Harge and I used to. With space between. Not the way lovers do._ But perhaps this was just wishful thinking.

   The dancer spun Therese out and as she finished the twirl she seemed to lose her grip on his hand and she stumbled. She threw her head back in laughter and then said something to the other two as she headed for the back door.

    _Oh shit, Shit! She’s coming out here!_ Carol snapped out of her mesmerized viewing and hurriedly grabbed the shopping bags full of Rindy’s Christmas presents that were the reason she had gone out there in the first place. She slammed the trunk shut and started for the stairs. She heard the shop door open behind her, and the music they were playing inside escaped out into the night, softly echoing around the little courtyard.

   “Hello, Carol!”

   Carol stopped short and turned her head about, feigning a look of startled surprise. _Did she buy that?_ “Oh, hello Therese. You’re here late.”

   “Yes, we just finished painting everything and thought we’d celebrate, plus it being Christmas Eve and all.”

    _Oh yes, I saw that, as I have been crouched by my car watching you for the last ten minutes like an insane stalker lady._ “How nice. I’m just bringing up Santa’s deliveries for Rindy, myself,” she said, holding up the bulging bags.    

   “Aww. Your daughter’s definitely a lucky one. Well, have a merry Christmas, Carol.”

   “You too, Therese.” Carol smiled and headed for the stairs again, but somehow, she could sense that Therese’s eyes still followed her. Without thinking, she stopped with one foot on the first step and put her bag down. Then turning back to Therese, who was indeed watching her from her spot just outside the door, she pointed to the crown of her own head and said in a stage whisper, “I like the hat.”

* * *

 

 _‘I like the hat’? Fuck, was that a really dumb line?_ But Carol hadn’t been able to help herself. Therese had looked quite cute. That dimpled smile. Those big emerald eyes. That inexplicable... _something,_ that Carol couldn't define any more than she could stop herself from wanting it.

   Carol quietly slipped in the front door, setting the bags down in the entry.

   “Well, well. Welcome back stranger. You certainly took your time.”

   Carol jumped. She had completely forgotten Abby was over. Her best friend sat in an armchair facing the door, martini glass held aloft, her figure illuminated by a single floor lamp, and Carol suddenly felt just like a teenager who had been caught sneaking in after curfew. “Sorry, I em, had to look for something.”

   “Oh riiiight,” said Abby, drawing out the last word sardonically. She tossed back the last swallow of her drink. “Look for something like, oh I don’t know... a little brunette in a Santa hat?” A wicked grin split across her face.

   “Abby! What, were you following me?"

   “No. I was merely checking in on my darling Goddaughter, making sure she was still asleep, and I just _happened_ to glance out the back window. You know, to take in the lovely ocean view. I can’t help it if you were in the way.”

   “Naturally. The ocean view is quite beautiful... in the pitch black," Carol grumbled. "I'd keep an eye on the mail if I were you Abby. I’m sure your commemorative, solid-gold binoculars will be arriving from 'Busy-bodies United' any day now.”

   Abby didn’t deviate course despite this slight against her. “Sooo?”

   “So. What?” Carol didn’t know why she was dragging it out. She’d been friends with Abby long enough to know that she was a hopeless gossip who could make a mob boss drop names when she wanted to.

   “Oh Jesus Christ Carol. Who is she?”

   Carol threw up her hands in surrender and sank down onto the couch. “Her name is Therese, all right? She owns the place below us now. I met her the other day when Rindy had run off down there.”

   Abby picked up the cocktail spear from her glass and slowly slid the olive off with her teeth.  She chewed slowly, still staring at Carol expectantly with narrowed eyes, and Carol knew she wasn’t going to be let off the hook that easily.

   She went on, “Apparently, her mother was that sour woman who owned the dreadful china shop that was in there before. Well I guess she died and left Therese the place in her will, so they’re turning it into a music store. She and a couple friends that is... two guys I think. And honestly Abby, that is really all I know about her.”

   “I see. Well, she looked pretty young.”

   “Yeah I suppose so.” Carol attempted to sound nonchalant, as though she hadn’t even thought about it, but she could hear a slight defensiveness in her voice betray her. “Anyway,” she hurried on before Abby could remark on this, “She’s just a person who works downstairs now and happens to be a women. You needn't read anymore into it Abigail.”

    "Needn't I?"

    "No."

    "Okay, okay! I’ll let it go. But only because it’s Christmas, and I’m feeling particularly giving, darling.”

    "My, how generous of you," said Carol, unfurling a role of peppermint striped wrapping paper. "Now how about you go make us another martini, then come help me wrap these.”

* * *

 

   Chuck Berry's 'Run Rudolph Run' rang throughout the shop and Therese felt warm and giddy off champagne and holiday spirit as she bounced around the room with Dannie. When he spun her out, her hand slipped out of his and she staggered, took a few wobbly steps, but managed to keep her balance.

   “Whoops!” called Dannie, laughing. “My bad, Therese!”  

   “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” said Phil, abandoning his air-guitar and swooping in to offer his hand. “I promise you, two left feet are not a family trait.”

   The whole thing had given Therese terrible case of giggles, and she leaned her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain her poise. “No, ha ha, no, hold on guys,” she pleaded. “I better go open the back-door and let some fresh air in here. I think the combination of champagne and paint fumes is making us all a wee bit loopy!”

   Swinging the back-door wide, she caught a swish of icy blonde hair moving across the walkway. “Hello, Carol!” she called before she could stop herself.

   She seemed to have surprised Carol and the tall woman jumped and looked around in bewilderment for the source of the voice before meeting her gaze. “Oh, hello Therese. You’re here late.”

  “Yes, we just finished painting everything and thought we’d celebrate, plus it being the Christmas Eve and all.”

   “How nice. I’m just bringing up Santa’s deliveries for Rindy, myself.” Carol held up two big shopping bags.

   Therese looked at the bags, stuffed full to burst with goodies, and thought about how magical that would have been to wake up to on Christmas day when she had been Rindy’s age. “Aww. Your daughter’s definitely a lucky one.” Then, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say, she added, “Well, have a Merry Christmas, Carol.”

   “You too, Therese,” Carol said with a small smile.

   Therese continued to watch Carol as she walked away, but Carol stopped short at the base of the stairs and put one of the bags down. She turned back to Therese and pointed to the top of her own head, saying in a low voice, “I like the hat.” Then she turned, took up her bag again, and walked up the stairs out of sight.

   Therese blushed deeply, Carol’s throaty whisper echoing in her head. _‘I like the hat.'_

     _Ugh, why did I have to be wearing this hat??_ Carol had strolled by looking like a twenty-first century Grace Kelly, and of course, she had to walk out looking like a silly school girl in the Christmas pageant chorus line.

   At the same time though, if she really thought about it, Carol had sounded a bit, well… flirty. _I didn't imagine that, right?_

Kicking down the door stop, Therese went back inside where Dannie and Phil had appeared to be attempting some sort of soft-shoe, tap dance routine to 'Let it Snow!'. The bottle of champagne sat on the ground, holding significantly less than when she’d left it.

   “Who were you talking to out there?” asked Phil without taking his eyes off his feet.

   “Oh, that was Carol. I met her the other day. She’s the woman who lives in the flat above us. She has a six-year-old kid too, named Rindy. She’s cute.”

   “Who? The mom, or the little girl?” cracked Dannie.

   “The kid!" _And the mom,_ she added in her head. Therese knew Dannie was only joking, he could have no clue what was going on inside her mind right now, but she could feel her face redden all the same.

  She grabbed the bottle of champagne and took another swig, then settled in a spot on the ground next to all the moving boxes. She started rummaging through them mindlessly, her head buzzing with thoughts of Carol. She couldn’t help it. She desperately wanted to know more about her. She wanted to be near her. She was just… drawn to her. Why this was, and what it meant exactly she would have to sort out later. Therese had never felt this way towards anyone, man or woman, and she wasn't sure she had the mental or emotional capacity to unpack it just yet. All she knew for certain was that she felt like dizzy little moth in the night, completely hypnotized by the brilliant flame that was Carol.

Picking through the box of instruments without really taking any of it in, Therese finally came upon a little red four-stringed something. It was the ukulele that had so fascinated Rindy the other day. Struck with sudden inspiration, she called out, “Hey, Phil?” Therese looked up to see Phil and Dannie had found there way to the ground and were now sprawled out, eyes drooping, and sleepily warbling along to ‘White Christmas’ in their best baritone, Bing Crosby impressions. She got up and stood directly over them so they would see her. “Phil? Is there anyway you would let me have this?" She waved the ukulele at him. "I could give you some money for it or something.”

   Phil opened one eye to see what she what was holding. Dannie continued his singing. - JUST LIKE THE ONES I USED TO KNOWWW -

   “What, oh that? Sure thing. Take it. It’s yours. Murreeyyy Christmas.” - TO HEERREE SLLEIGH BELLS IN THE SSSNOOOWW -

   “Thanks! Listen fellas, I’m spent. I think I’m just going to head home.” - WITH EVVERRY CHRISSTMAASSS CARRD I WRRIITEEEE - “Are you two going to be okay to close up and get back to your place?”

   Neither of them answered her but continued to sing. Therese waited patiently until they finally finished out with - ANDD MAYYY ALLL YOOOUUURRR CHRISTMAASSESS BEEE WWHIITTEEE - Dannie sat up. “Yeah, you go ahead and go, we’re good here. Hey, but you are comin’ over for dinner tomorrow, right? You’re not sitting home alone all day on Christmas, Therese.”

   “Absolutely,” she smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

   “Good, you better. And you know what Phil?” Dannie turned to his brother.

   “What?”

   “I’m so fucking glad we're NOT having a white Christmas.”

   And she left them rolling on the ground in a fit of tipsy laughter.

* * *

 

   Therese stopped at the drugstore on her way home for the rest of the things she needed. Clutching her bag and the little ukulele excitedly, she didn’t notice him standing on the small front landing that was shared by their two apartments. She only looked up when she smelled the cigarette.

   “Hiya Terry! Merry Christmas. You’re getting in awful late. I hope it wasn’t some hot date, heh heh.”

    _Damn._ “Hi Richard” she said wearily. “Merry Christmas.”

   He was leaning lazily on the railing, legs cutting across the opening at the top of the stairs, effectively blocking her only way up. He took another long drag of his cigarette and then pointed with it to her hands. “Whatcha got there?”

   “Nothing. Just a present for someone.” she said flatly, still unable to get past him to the landing. “You’re right though, it _is_ pretty late. I would sort of like to get into my apartment and just go to bed.” She gestured at his legs.

   He stepped to the side but as she passed him he caught her arm above the elbow, and she grudgingly turned back to face him. “So I was thinking,” he said.“Cause you're new around here and all, I thought maybe you might not have any place to be on Christmas. I gotta big family, and you know, it wouldn’t be any big deal to have one more. So if you want to tag along, you could. I’m sure my mom would like you a lot.”

   “Uh, no," she blurted out a little too quickly. "I mean thanks, but I’ve got plans. Remember Dannie and Phil who I told you about? My friends, business partners... so I won’t be alone.”

   Richard looked a little crestfallen, but she couldn’t truthfully find it in herself to be all that sorry. Therese supposed now it had been a fairly stupid decision on her part to have gone out with him in the first place, just days after she had moved in. It was just drinks, so she hadn’t thought much of it then, or even bothered to consider the uncomfortable situation that would ensue if she didn’t have a good time; because as their front doors were about six feet away from each other, she had to see Richard most everyday. Since then, Richard had been like a puppy-dog (minus any of the adorable cuteness) scratching at her door, begging her to come out and play again. Therese didn’t want to be mean, so she had tried to seem aloof, unresponsive to any of his flirting, figuring he would pick up the hint and move on. But either he was unabashedly determined, or incredibly dense (based on their date she had her thoughts on which was more likely), because here he was, still nipping at her heels. She would have to have a frank conversation with him, she knew, but just now she couldn’t concentrate on that.

   Richard twirled his cigarette butt in the ashtray and shrugged. “Yeah, totally. I mean, I just wanted to make sure. That second date is coming though, Terry! So be ready!”

   She somehow did manage to keep herself from rolling her eyes. “Goodnight, Richard.” was all she said, leaving him on the landing and closing the apartment door behind her.

   Though it was now after midnight, Therese flicked on the lamp and dumped her bag out on her desk, eager to put everything together.  


	4. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

**December 25**

 

    Carol was lying across the couch, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the front windows. A cup of coffee rested on her stomach and the rich aroma steamed and swirled around her, mingling with the earthy pine scent emanating from the tree in the corner. The radio played softly in the background. The velvety croon of Judy Garland singing ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ was like a gentle lullaby. Carol was exhausted, and this was immensely peaceful.  

   Rindy had been up at an ungodly hour that morning, bouncing onto Carol’s bed and begging to go open presents. Carol had pulled her under the covers and snuggled up to her, willing the little girl to go back to sleep for just one more hour. This lasted for all of twenty minutes before Rindy’s agitated fidgeting and repeated whisperings of, “Mama, is it time yet? How about now? What about now?” forced Carol to accept defeat. Rubbing the tired out of her eyes with weary fingers, she pulled on a sweatshirt and her slippers and trudged after Rindy.

   An hour later, the little girl was fast asleep under the tree, wrapping paper draped over her like a blanket and all her new things sprinkled about her on the floor. _Maybe I went a bit overboard on the presents. Am I spoiling her?_ Carol wondered. _Whatever,_ she ultimately decided, _Rindy’s the only one I’ve got._

Carol was starting to think she should get up to start breakfast, but it was just so damn comfortable resting as she was. _Ok Carol, you’ve got ten seconds to get a move on. Ready? Ten, nine, eight, seven, six_ — KNOCK KNOCK —.

   Her countdown had been interrupted by a soft thumping on the door. Carol’s eyes flew open. _Who the hell could that be?_ Harge wasn’t expected for another three or four hours at least.

   She shuffled over to the door and squinted out the peephole. There was no one there. Bewildered, she moved over to the window and carefully pulled aside the curtain for a better view of the porch. Still nothing. Carol opened the door cautiously and nearly stepped directly on a small package that was sitting on the welcome mat. She scoured her memory, trying to recall what she had ordered before remembering that it was a holiday and there wouldn’t have been any deliveries today. Harge was supposed to come by later with his present for Rindy, but Carol couldn’t imagine he would just leave it on the step and not have wanted to see his daughter too. Even he wasn't that cold hearted.

   Carol snatched up the mysterious parcel and brought it back to her spot on the couch. It was a plain brown box, unwrapped. It’s only designation was a little note scrawled on the top that read simply, ‘To Rindy & Carol’.

   “Mama, what’s that?” Rindy had woken up and crawled over to where Carol sat, watching her mother study the package.

   Carol pulled the little girl up onto her lap. “I don’t know snowflake, maybe one more Christmas surprise?”

   “Ooo I wanna see!” and Rindy reached over and threw off the lid of the box, and immediately shouted with glee upon seeing what it contained. “Oh look! Look! The little eensy guitar! Look Mama!” and she excitedly pulled it from it’s tissue paper bed.

    _Well of all the things,_ thought Carol, instantly recognizing the small red instrument. “I see it darling. It’s called a ukulele,” she explained to Rindy. “Here, see what the tag says.”

   Rindy caught the tag that was hanging from the neck of ukulele and dutifully read aloud: "Dear Rindy, Thank you so much for your warm welcome to the neeg—“

   “Neighborhood”

   “—neighborhood the other day. I thought you might like this. Come by if you need help learning to play it. Merry Christmas!  From Your Friend, Therese.” She looked around at her mother, delighted. “Ooo Mama she gaved this to me! Do you believe that?!”

   “Gave, not gaved. But yes, that certainly was really very sweet of Therese, wasn’t it. Maybe you can make her a nice thank you card?”

   “Yeah, I'll use my new color pencils.” Rindy lifted something else out of the box that had a tag matching the one on the ukulele. She examined it for a second before handing it off to her mother. “Here, this one’s for you.” Then she took her newest present and skipped away to sit by the tree again. She plunked down cross-legged, and began to pluck at the strings in haphazard passion.

   Carol listened as the discordant notes filled the room, clashing brilliantly with the radio. _Oh lord. Just lovely._ She turned her attention to the object Rindy had handed her. It was a little silken, draw-string pouch. She took the tag and saw the inscription was much shorter than Rindy’s, only a few words: ‘Carol, Sorry ;) Merry Christmas -Therese’. There was a little winking smiley face drawn in next to the word sorry. _Why, sorry?_ Completely nonplussed, Carol pulled the strings and tipped the contents of the pouch onto her hand. Two ear plugs rolled out. She let out a little crow of laughter. Taking the tag in her hand again, she studied Therese's signature. _Well you certainly are full of surprises, Therese Belivet._

“Mama, what did you get?” Rindy paused her enthusiastic strumming and looked at her mother with wide eyes.

   “Just the ability to maintain my sanity,” Carol chortled, and then laughed harder as Rindy wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. “Never mind. Come on sweet pea, let’s make some pancakes.”

* * *

 

   Carol dragged the comb through her hair once more and looked herself up and down in the mirror. She ran her hands along the seams on the bodice of the dress before emitting a miffed sigh. _Shit._ She ripped the dress off over her head and hurled it to the ground, giving it an extra kick for good measure. Nothing she’d tried on seemed right. She needed to look good, but not too inviting. Pretty, but not sexy. She wanted Harge to look and her and see she was doing well without him. However, the very last thing she needed was for him to get it in his head that she had dressed up for his sake.

   Carol pulled back on the dark, slim jeans she had discarded two outfits ago and found an acceptable blouse to go with it. She was leaning over the sink trying to connect the backing on one of her earrings when she heard banging on the front door and Rindy hollering back to her from the living room, “MMAAMMAA, DAD’S HERE!” _Fuck!_ _Damnit Harge!_ She dropped the earring backing and watched it slide down the wall of the sink, directly into the drain. _Ugghh! For Christ’s sake!_ She flung the loose earring down on the counter where it skittered away into a corner.

   Trying to sound composed despite her irritation, she called to her daughter, “Rindy, wait. Let me answer the door.” But she was too late. As she came jogging into the living room she saw Rindy pull the door open and Harge was already sweeping her up into a hug.

   “Merry Christmas, sunshine!” he roared, swinging her around. “Merry Christmas, Carol,” he added, catching sight of her across the room. He let Rindy slide down his leg back onto the ground where she scampered away to her room to retrieve all her Christmas presents to show him.

   “Harge,” Carol said plainly, giving a polite nod. She moved closer so she could speak to him and ensure Rindy didn’t hear. Her voice came out in a hoarse, agitated whisper. “I thought I had asked you to call me when you got here, so I could meet you outside.”

   “Oh come on, Carol. I didn’t think you meant that for real!" Harge made no attempt to keep his voice low. "Seriously, can’t I even walk up to the door of my own wife and daughter without having to get through a fucking TSA search?”    

   “Not when you show up half the time staggering drunk. No Harge, then you can’t. I don’t want Rindy seeing that! And I wouldn’t think you would either for that matter.”

   “Listen Carol, that’s all in the past now. I’ve turned a new leaf. See? One month!” He pulled out a round little token from his coat pocket and waved it in front of her eyes with a satisfied smirk on his face. “We’re going to be a family again.”

   Carol laughed coldly. “Oh, are we? And who’d you have to bribe to get that? Even if I did believe that was real Harge, one month is hardly significant in light of everything that happened.”

   “It _is_ real,” Harge contended through gritted teeth. "And I’m going to stick with it this time.” He was clearly displeased at her apathetic reaction.

   What had he expected, Carol wondered. That she would jump up and down, kiss him proudly and skip off to pack up her and Rindy’s things so they could go play some fucked up version of house again? Why was he so obsessed with this fantasy life they never even had, never would have? “Yeah, I’ve heard that before, Harge. And what about the rest of it, hmmm? What about all the other women? What, did Central California finally run out of trampy secretaries for you to take on your ' _work retreats'_?” She drew air quotes around this phrase.

   “Ha! That’s rich, coming from you,” he sneered.

   “That’s not the same thing, Harge. You had dozens! The whole time we were married.”

   “We’re _still_ married, Carol.”

   “Because you won’t sign the paperwork! Please, PLEASE, hear me Harge. I. Don’t. Love. You.” She said these words slowly, cutting off each one in a sharp staccato. “Maybe I did at one point, once upon a time. In a strange, abnormal way at least. But now? I don’t even remember what that felt like. And I have absolutely no desire to remember either,” she hissed bitterly.

   Harge’s face was turning a deeper shade of scarlet with her every word. A manic fury sparked behind his dark eyes and the vein in his neck bulged threateningly. He grabbed her wrists, which were easily encircled by his large hands, and pulled her into him. The fierce flame that had been feeding Carol’s resolve now flickered with fear and she worried she had pushed him too far. “Damn it Carol,” he spluttered, "don’t you forget! I know things about you. You walk around like you’re some fucking saint and I’m supposed to be the big-bad-wolf. But we both know there’s people out there who would be very interested in the stories I could tell about _you_. And not to mention Rindy! I’m sure you and your sidekick Abby have been busy filling her head with all kinds of lies about what a terrible person I am… how disappointing it would be then for her to find out that her mother—”

   “Harge. Harge, please! Let me go.” All of the fight had left her voice, and the words quivered and caught. “R-Rindy doesn’t know anything about anything. I haven’t said a word about you, I promise. She doesn’t have to know anything… a-about either of us. Please.”     

   Just then Rindy burst back into the room, arms laden with her new toys and art supplies. “Dad, come look at everything Santa brought!”

   Harge quickly dropped Carol’s hands and his formidable expression morphed unsettlingly into one of cheery interest as he went over to Rindy. “Okay my girl, okay. Show me what you got!”

   Carol tried to control her breathing which was coming fast and heavy. She slid into a chair and gripped the armrests hard to quiet her hands from their shaking. She watched as Rindy proudly presented each of her new things in turn to her father and wondered if her life would ever be free of Harge Aird.

* * *

 

   Forty minutes later Harge was at the door enveloping Rindy in a tight bear hug.

_Seriously? He wants to be a “family" again and he can’t even manage a full hour with his only child on Christmas?_

   “Next time we’ll do painting okay, sunshine? Daddy has to leave for a dinner.” He set her down on the ground, reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a red envelope. “I bet you thought I forgot huh? Ha ha Merry Christmas, baby girl! Now don’t you go spending that all in one place” he chuckled and kissed the top of Rindy’s dirty-blonde curls.

_Money. Nice, Harge. How thoughtful, and personal._

“Thanks, Daddy! Bye!” and Rindy rushed off waving the envelope over her head.

   “Goodbye, Harge.” said Carol coldly, holding the door open for him.

   “Carol. I’m, er, sorry things got a little heated earlier.” He spoke casually, as if they had argued over what movie to see or something else frivolous.

   “Harge...” She sighed deeply, letting her shoulders fall. This had grown very tiresome. “Harge, you need to let me go.”

   He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled himself forward to place a kiss on her cheek. Carol stood stiffly as he went about this, arms rigid at her sides. He brought his face back to look into hers and said, “I just can’t do that, Carol.” He turned to go but stopped on the threshold and looked back at her again. “You’ve only got one earring by the way.”

   When the door finally closed behind him, she yanked the remaining earring out of her ear and launched it at the door with everything she could muster. _Fuck. You._


	5. Bob and Joan

**December 27**

 

    “Any last minute additions to the list?” asked Dannie. He ripped off the top sheet from the yellow legal pad and waved it in front of her face.

    Therese closed her eyes and tried to take a quick mental inventory of everything that was still needed to get the shop up and running. “Ummm... you’ve got the coffee maker on there right, for the back room?” She held up her large to-go cup and frowned, “I don’t think I can go one more day working on this place without a more regular supply of coffee.” Then she tipped the cup all the way back, draining the last dregs of it.

   “Well actually, Phil and I were thinking we could get you one of those medical IVs, so you can just start injecting it right into your bloodstream.” Therese punched him in the shoulder. “Ow. It’s on the list!” he yelped, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him. "All right if that's it, then I think I’m outta here. We’ll see you in a couple of hours. Unless, sure you don’t want to come along?”

   “No, you guys go ahead. It doesn’t need all three of us and I want to start hanging some of the art and stuff on the walls."

   “Well be careful, don’t hurt anything.”

   “Hey I can handle it! I’ve got at least as much muscle as your skinny ass!” Therese cracked back at him and stuck out her tongue.

   “I know that! I was talking about the _walls_. I don’t want you messing up my perfect paint job.” Dannie dodged another punch and then returned the tongue gesture. "Catch ya later, slugger!"

    When the door closed behind him, Therese exhaled and grinned, happy to finally find herself alone in the shop. She loved Dannie and Phil, and most of the time could even appreciate their mischievous antics and youthful sense of humor; but there was still a lot of work to get through, and these qualities of character often meant the two brothers spent equal amounts of time goofing around as they did actually getting things done. She'd been glad for the opportunity this morning to send them off shopping, affording her a few hours to herself to make some progress without their constant joking and distractions.

    Therese straightened the bandana in her hair and added one more roll to the sleeves of her oversized denim shirt. _Now for a little music;_ she flicked through her phone until she found a suitable playlist. The electrifying guitar riff beat out through the shop's overhead speakers. Therese gripped the phone as if it was a mic and sang along with Miss Nicks,

_"Just like the white winged dove,_

_Sings a song, sounds like she's singing,"_

She extended her arm and pointed out to the invisible audience, dragging her hand along in front of her, parallel to the ground.

     _Ooh, ooh, oooh."_

    Feeling sufficiently amped up for the task ahead of her now, she bobbed over to the back corner to confront the stack of photographs, posters, and album covers she’d set aside there for framing. She picked one of the larger ones off the top of the pile, and held it at arms length to examine it. This particular print had belonged to her long before it was brought to its new home here in the music shop. It was a blown-up, black and white photograph of Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, respective King and Queen of folk. They were posed standing on either side of a poster advertisement that read ‘PROTEST AGAINST THE RISING TIDE OF CONFORMITY’.

    Therese had found it buried in the corner of some thrift shop years ago and had to have it. It had hung proudly on the wall of her tiny studio in St. Paul. Looking at it always made her feel a little better about her own unconventional life and all the choices she’d made in it- her lack of a traditional family, her general lack of direction, the fact that she hadn’t gone to college, how she’d never chosen a solid career path, only working odd jobs for a few months at a time before moving on to the next, how she hadn’t settled down, hadn’t gotten married, even her crappy studio apartment; it all didn’t matter. It was, cool. It was, modern. She wasn’t lost, she was a rebel! A lone-wolf! She set her own hours, and went wherever she wanted. Hell, she could pick up everything and move halfway across the country without a second glance! She could even maybe, _like women_.

   Or at least that’s what she would tell herself. That she, Therese Belivet, was confident and steadfast in all these decisions and feelings. Bob and Joan were there, frozen in time, to forever reassure her that it was all fine, it was good, and Therese could look into their faces a pretend for just a moment that she wasn’t actually completely unsure of everything, and totally scared shitless.

   She shuffled around, holding the print up to the wall in different spots with one eye-shut, imagining what it would look like hanging there; all the while still wiggling her shoulders and shifting from foot to foot, swinging her hips to the beat of the music.

    Over the song, she heard the bell on the door jangle to life behind her- Dannie come back for something he forgot. He was always leaving his wallet or his keys or something-or-other behind.

   “Miss me already?” she teased without looking around, bending lower and giving him an extra shake of her ass as Stevie sang, " _Ooh, baby ooh, oooh_ ," again.

   “Hmmm, and what would you say if I said yes?”

   Therese froze at the sound of the deep, smooth, _heavenly_ voice, which did not belong to Dannie. Her heart immediately assumed the steady, pounding thump-thump-thump of a bass drum. Surely it was going to pound it's way right out of her chest. She straightened up and twisted around so violently she nearly lost her balance and had to throw her arms out to the sides to steady herself, dropping the print in the process. It caught the air and slowly floated to the ground where it slid to a rest at her feet. “Carol! H-hi.” she stammered.

   Carol was pressing her lips together in an obvious attempt to stifle a laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

   “No, no, you’re fine. Sorry, I just thought you were my friend Dannie. Er, not that you look like Dannie, or sound like Dannie. You are, you know… um, I mean, I just wasn't expecting you.”

   Carol's eyes sparked with an energy that made Therese feel as if she was being x-rayed. “Wait, what were you going to say?" she chortled. "I'm what? A woman? Old?”

   Therese scoffed. “You could hardly be considered old. No, I was going to say... beautiful.” _Oh fuck, now you've done it._

   It had just slipped out, _beautiful_ , and Therese was mortified the moment she heard the word leave her lips. Oh what she wouldn't give for some kind of act of God, for the ground to just open up at her feet and swallow her whole, right then and there. But surprisingly, she then saw a blush crawl across Carol’s cheekbones at her words, followed by a coy smile that flickered at the corners of her mouth.

    They stood like that for several long moments, eyes locked, neither speaking. Carol broke first, softly clearing her throat and looking down to reach in her bag. She pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to Therese. “I came by to thank you for the Christmas gift and give you this. Rindy adores it, truly. It was really so kind and unexpected of you, Therese.”  

   “Oh it was nothing!" Therese flapped her hand nervously, waving away the thanks. "She seemed to get such a kick out of it when she was here so I just thought…” But she stopped before finishing the sentence, because she couldn’t possibly admit to Carol the honest truth behind the gift. Yes, she had sincerely liked the little girl and wanted her to have the instrument; but it had also been a shamefully desperate attempt to encourage future interaction between herself and Carol, and Therese was all too thrilled that her scheme had seemingly worked. “Anyway, I’m just glad she likes it,” she finished.

   Therese took the paper from Carol’s outstretched hand and saw it was a hand-made card. On the front the words ‘THANK YOU’ were scrawled in big block letters, each one filled in with a different color of the rainbow. She opened it to see a picture of their building, easily identifiable by the red door and balcony railing drawn on the top floor. Two happy-faced figures stood on the top, a tall one with wavy blonde hair, and a small one with a red ukulele in hand. On the bottom floor was another smiling figure. This one had straight brown hair and was holding two long, sort of rounded objects, surrounded by floating music notes. The bottom of the page was signed ‘Your Friend Rindy’.

   “I'm not sure why you’re holding chicken drumsticks, but there you have it.”

   Therese giggled. “I'm pretty sure those are maracas, I was playing around with some when we first met. Tell Rindy I’m going to hang this right behind the counter. I hope she’s not driving you too crazy with it.”

   “No actually. She’s been teaching herself with YouTube. She figured out how to tune it and everything, and already knows a couple chords I think. Six-year-olds these days, I swear. She’s going to be running an empire by the time she’s ten I have no doubt. But then of course, you saw to it anyway that I was covered in case she does get a little too wild with her playing."

    Therese smiled sheepishly at this acknowledgement, and once again she found herself merely holding Carol's gaze in silence. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. Either she was blurting out things like 'you're beautiful', or she couldn't seem to form any words at all.

    “Anyway,” Carol eventually went on, “I wanted to give you that, but...” She began fiddling with a button on her jacket and Therese got the impression she was stealing herself to say this part, "I had wondered too if maybe, you’d like to get lunch with me sometime. Would you?”

   “Yes. I would," she shot back quickly, and then hoped this hadn’t come out sounding too eager.

   Carol smiled a wide, red-lipped grin. “Tomorrow?” Therese nodded and Carol started digging around in her bag for something. “Great. Can you meet me over at my work? I’ve got a little furniture restoration business. It’s not far. Here.” She’d finally found the thing she was looking for, and handed Therese a small card. “There’s my business card with the address, and my cell is on the back. Let’s say, one-ish?”

   “I'll be there.”

   “Well then, that’s settled.” Carol tugged her bag back onto her shoulder, but her eyes had dropped to the ground and she was studying the floor at Therese’s feet. She pointed at the photo print that was still lying there, forgotten. "I like that one," she sighed. "I wish I’d had someone around to tell me that when I was younger. Maybe then I wouldn't have..." Her words trailed off and her face suddenly looked dreamy and wistful. Almost sad, Therese thought.

    Therese leaned in towards Carol unconsciously. _Maybe you wouldn't have... what?!_

    But the expression had vanished from her features almost as soon as it had appeared, and Carol looked back up to Therese, her smile returned. “So, I guess I will see you tomorrow then!”

    Though slightly taken aback by the rapid shift back and forth in Carol's demeanor, Therese simply nodded and confirmed, “Tomorrow.”

    With a waggle of her fingers, Carol waved goodbye and was out the door.

    Therese rushed forward to the window so she could watch Carol walk away down the street, her nose pressed against the glass like a small child in front of a toy store window display. When Carol had reached the the pavement in front of the bike shop next door, she turned and glanced back towards the shop. _Shit!_ Therese instinctively ducked down, dropping straight to the floor. She was already embarrassed enough from their interaction without Carol catching her gawking.

    Now sitting on the ground, her back resting against the wall, she looked down at the little card Carol had given her which was still clutched in her hand. It was embossed with a logo for 'Aird & Gerhard Restoration’. Her face split into a smile as she tucked it into her shirt pocket. _Calm down, you. It’s just lunch. It’s just lunch._

Therese counted to ten, then flipped over onto her hands and knees and slowly lifted her head to peek out over the window sill. She caught a glimpse of the back of Carol's head across the street, just before it disappeared from view behind a row of parked cars. Therese picked herself up off the floor and brushed off the knees of her pants, then excitedly pulled out her phone. She opened up the calendar app and scrolled over to the following day, then added an event: CAROL 1:00PM, with a reminder set to go off one hour before.

    There really was no need to mark it, Therese wasn't going to forget, and she definitely wasn't gong to need the alarm. She knew her jitters would have her checking the clock all morning. But she liked the way the name looked in her calendar. Evidence that she and Carol Aird were spending time together.  

    Slowly, Therese walked back across the room, coming to a rest in front of the fallen photograph. She picked it up and smirked at it. _Well, I suppose now I can add -developed the most intense crush I've ever had, on a woman, who is older, and who has a child- to the list of mixed up shit in my life. I don't seem to do anything normal, do I?_

    But there was Bob, and there was Joan, glaring back at her once again as if to say, 'fuck normal'.

* * *

 [the photo](https://78.media.tumblr.com/35eb4c7e7eca922913203f0f5e82a739/tumblr_ojjyhkwLZJ1vg8zzho1_1280.jpg)

    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the kind words, lovelies!


	6. You've Got a Friend

**December 28**

 

   Therese held up the flyer with one hand, her other holding a staple gun poised over the paper, ready to affix it to the telephone pole in front of her. Dannie's ringing voice carried across the street to her, mingled with an indistinguishable buzz of chatter and laughter, causing Therese to pause. She tilted her head to peer around the pole and see who he was with.

   She spied him about twenty yards up, surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful looking twenty-somethings, a mixture of men and women, all with the same sun-drenched skin and hair. Judging by the towels and beach bags slung over their shoulders, they looked to be on their way down to the water, probably to play pick-up football or frisbee or whatever people their age did at the beach. _My age,_ Therese realized awkwardly. She watched as Dannie passed around papers from his own stack of bright yellow flyers. He made a comment she couldn't quite make out, and the group around him all nodded and laughed. One guy slapped his shoulder like they were old friends. She marveled at the way Dannie could always talk and interact with even total strangers with a natural ease that she herself had never been able to master, and she was wholly relieved that this crew had come up on his side of the street and not her own. She always felt so phony and forced whenever meeting someone new- forcing smile, forcing the mundane, everyday conversation, and forcing herself to make some kind of connection which so rarely ever came to fruition.

    Except with Carol, she reflected. Carol had been entirely different. Therese hardly knew her, this was true. Yet from the very first time she had met Carol, that day in the shop with Rindy, Therese knew, could feel, something more stirring between them. And whatever it was had sprung forth without her conscious consent; a visceral hunger to know this person, all of her, and to be connected to her, that for once, Therese didn't have to force at all.

    _Ka-chink!_ She pressed the staple gun into the pole without taking her eyes off the group ahead, though she was now lost in rumination and wasn't really seeing them. When she went to lower her hands, her left arm refused to come away. "Shit. Shit!" she puffed, turning to see she had stapled her sleeve to the pole along with the flyer for the New Year's Eve party they were throwing at the music shop. She and Dannie had been canvasing the streets of the little beach community all morning, and a trail of the yellow papers already peppered the main street in their wake. Therese tugged on the sleeve experimentally, but the little metal pin made not the tiniest budge, and she quickly stopped when she saw the fabric threatening to tear. She only had the one outfit with her, and would prefer not to meet Carol in ripped clothing. _Uggh_ , Dannie was going to be insufferably smug. When they had headed out that morning, he'd tried to show her on how to use the staple gun and she had gotten annoyed with him, asserting that she wasn't a moron and could handle the stupid thing just fine.

   She looked across the street again and was glad to see the group of beach-goers was waving Dannie good-bye now and making their way down the walk once more, and thus she would be spared the additional humiliation of having to reveal her predicament in front of all of them. "Dannie!" she called reluctantly, and beckoned him over with her free hand. "I need you over here!"

   Dannie jogged across the street, a big grin on his face. He slapped his hand to his chest as he leapt up onto the sidewalk in front of her. "Looks like Dan-The-Man just got another nine or ten people for our New Year's Party! They seemed like a pretty cool bunch actually, I wouldn't mind making friends with them. Even _you_ might like some of them, Therese."

    "Oh, yeah that's great," and she tried to sound at least somewhat enthusiastic at the prospect.

    Evidently, she wasn't convincing enough for Dannie who frowned at her. "You know Therese, you could try and be a little more interested in other humans. They're not all bad you know. You never-"

    She cut him off. "Yeah-yeah-yeah, I know. But I've got a bit of a situation here, Dannie." She pointed to her arm which as still resolutely attached to the pole. Dannie furrowed his brow, confused, and she shook the staple gun in front of him for further explanation. Finally making the connection, he immediately doubled over in the bout of laughter she had been expecting. Therese watched him patiently for a moment, tapping her foot on the pavement, until finally a smile grudgingly forced its way onto her own face. "Okay, okay. Yes, hilarious. I fucked up. Now when you’re finished, do you think _Dan-The-Man_ could help me out here?"

   Still snickering, Dannie fished in his pocket and pulled out his key ring. He took one of the keys and went to work trying to pry up the staple with it. "Hey I'm starved, want to get some lunch after this?" he asked.

   "No, uh, I can't. Sorry. I already have lunch plans with someone today."

   "No way. Therese Belivet, meeting someone for lunch? Actually getting out into the big wide world? I don't believe it. Wait, wait. It's not that Richard guy who lives next door to you is it? I thought you said he was, what did you call him, obnoxious and simple?"

   Therese made a guttural noise of distaste. "No, it's definitely not Richard. And it's not like I'm a total shut-in, Dannie. I just don't find that I really like all that many people, okay? I'm meeting Carol. Carol, from upstairs." Dannie was making very slow progress releasing her sleeve, and her arm was growing tired from being held high and her shoulder had begun to ache.

   "Carol, huh? Well I'm glad. At least you want to befriend somebody in this town."

   Therese looked down at the ground, debating how much she wanted to tell Dannie. She kicked the base of the telephone poll a few times and chewed on her bottom lip until she decided she couldn't stand keeping it to herself any longer. "I think... I think it might be a little more than that, though. I mean, I think I _LIKE_ her."

   She watched his face for a reaction, but Dannie was focused on what he was doing at her sleeve. "This... damn... thing..." he grunted.

   "Dannie, did you hear what I said?"

   "What? Oh, yeah. Well it's like I said, I'm happy that you found someone you like. I know you're a bit of an introvert, and it's not like Phil and I don't love hanging out with you all the time, but it's good you're making friends. Even if she is a little older."

    Therese squeezed her eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and a little scared. Scared of what Dannie was going to say, and scared because saying it aloud made the feelings seem so much more real. She just wanted Dannie to get it, to understand without her having to explain any further. She wasn't even sure if she could explain it fully if she wanted to, because she didn't completely understand it herself. She took a deep breathe. "No, I mean I think I like her, as in... I'm _attracted_ to her."

   Dannie's hands ceased their movement and lay still against the telephone pole. She saw his eyebrows lift, and he turned to face her with a indiscernible, wide-eyed expression. He let out a soft, "Oh."

   Therese nodded slowly and apprehensively as to reconfirm what she had just shared, holding her breathe, daring him to say something else. She could see his eyes searching her own, rapidly flitting back and forth between them, and she suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable. Naked and bound to this godforsaken telephone pole, and unable to hide or run away. How long had passed? Seconds? Minutes? Her arm was going numb.

   Finally, his face softened. Slowly the creases at the corners of his eyes returned and one side of his mouth was drawn up towards his ear, until he was beaming at her with a familiar lopsided smile. "Well all right then," he said with a single, definitive nod. "I'm still happy for you." He turned away and went back to work on her arm, continuing to smile. "So when do Phil and I get to meet the woman that charmed our little Therese?"

   Therese was stunned. She didn't know what she had expected exactly. Amusement, maybe. For Dannie to laugh and say she was being ridiculous, or think it was a joke. Doubt. Misgivings. More questions at the very least. Certainly not this breezy, unflappable acceptance. "So, uh, you don't think I'm, I don't know, being crazy, at all?"

   "Should I?"

   "Well no," she shrugged, "but I just thought you'd be more skeptical, or... or have more questions, or something."

   "All... most... got it!" Dannie put a foot up on the pole and gave one last mighty tug on the little piece of metal. It wrenched free from the wood and Dannie stumbled backwards from the momentum. Therese's arm dropped down, limp from a lack of blood flow.

   "Thanks," she mumbled, rolling her shoulder back and forth.

   Dannie came forward and stood right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders, and she stared up into his warm, dark-brown eyes. "Look," he spoke gently, "I don't pretend to know a lot about relationships or love or any of that. You know my track record, every girl I've ever dated I thought I was going to marry, and well, here I am. But I'm also not so sure that we are meant to understand it all anyway. So if you say you like her, well then to me, that's all there is to it. Do your thing Belivet. And whatever that is, whoever that's with, I'm here for ya. And Phil would say the very same, I know." Dannie squeezed her shoulders and then pulled her into a tight hug.

   Therese felt herself relax in his embrace, as if his arms wrapped around her were leaching out the chaos that had permeated her mind and body the last few days. She smiled into his shoulder. "Dannie McElroy, when exactly did you get so smart?"

   "Like I said... Dan-The-Man."

   She snorted. "Okay, I'll give it to you... you’re the man. Thanks, Dannie."

   Dannie gave her one more squeeze and then let her go. He bent down and picked up his stack of flyers, and then looked at Therese with a sly smirk. "So, are you going to ask this Carol to be your date to our New Year's party?"

 

* * *

 

   Carol poured a fourth cup of coffee and stared fixedly at the clock. _12:03._ That made it exactly four minutes since she last checked. She took her time fussing unnecessarily with the cream and sugar and then tapped the stir spoon on the rim of the mug in a brisk, agitated beat, producing shrill pinging noises.

    Abby was eyeing her suspiciously over the top of her glasses from her spot behind the front desk. “Going a little heavy on the brew today, aren’t we?” she asked coolly.

   Carol grimaced. She clutched at her mug and shuffled over to the desk, then slumped down into the chair opposite her friend. “I don't know, Abby. I feel suddenly... nervous,” she admitted meekly. The words sounded absurd once she’d said it out loud. She was a grown woman after all; what should she be nervous about? Carol pinched the bridge of her nose and then ran her fingers across her brow, letting out a small uneasy laugh. “I know, I know. Being ridiculous.”

   Abby pushed the keyboard back and swiveled in her chair away from the computer to face Carol head on. She took off her reading glasses and laid them carefully on the desk, crossed her arms, and leaned in towards Carol. “I thought you said this wasn’t anything special, just a friendly lunch with the new neighbor?” Her tone was indifferent, but Carol recognized the knowing look in Abby's eyes and the sympathetic tilt of her head.

   “Oh, you can cut the charade, Abby. We both know I was lying through my teeth. But Jesus, I have no idea what the hell am I doing. You were right before. She's young. She's got to be nine or ten years younger than me.” Carol lifted the coffee mug towards her mouth with a jittery hand.

    Before it reached her lips Abby had placed her own hand over the top, halting it’s trajectory. “Well having more of that is not going to help you out any,” she chided, pulling the mug from Carol’s hand and sliding it across the desk out of her reach. Abby opened her top drawer and rummaged for a moment before extracting an elegant silver flask. “Here, have a couple swallows of this instead.”  

   Carol snorted and shook her head in amusement. “You’re incorrigible, you know?” But she did take the flask from Abby’s outstretched hand.

   Abby just shrugged and folded her hands under her chin. "I just know what works, my dear. But seriously Carol, you were with Harge for so long, and you haven't been on a date with anyone since... well in a while." Abby paused and a brief, uneasy stillness hung in the air between them, and Carol knew they were both thinking the same thing- that the last person Carol had been out with had in fact been Abby herself. Abby hurried on, "Anyway, it's perfectly normal to feel a little bit nervous. But you just need to relax, stop overthinking it. And please, just forget what I said about the age thing. Plenty of people date other people with much bigger age gaps."

   "Well it's not technically a real _date,_ per se. I just asked her to lunch, I didn't specify. But you're right, I know.”

   “Are you going to tell Harge?"

   "What's to tell? It’s not anything yet. I don't owe him that anyway. It's not like he's ever done me the courtesy of sharing whenever he’s gone off with some other woman. And you know they do a lot more than just have lunch," Carol said darkly.

   Abby gave her a simpering look. "Mmhmm, and do you suppose you and Therese will do more than just have lunch today?"

   "Abby!" Carol swatted her hand through the air in Abby's direction, pretending to act scandalized, though she had to bite down on her lip to suppress a smile. "No, I don't suppose we will, Abigail."

   Abby made a tutting noise and shook her head. "Ah well, to each his own. Now, how about you go do some work on that dining table in the warehouse while you wait? Our deadline for that one's coming up soon and it will help take your mind off things at the very least. I’ll come find you when your little lady gets here. But I wasn't kidding, take a fucking drink first! Christ, you’re even stressing _me_ out.”

   Carol unscrewed the small silver cap and took a long swallow from the flask, then exhaled sharply at the burn of the whiskey moving down through her chest. “All right, I’m going. And she's not _my_ lady, by the way.”

   "Well, not yet," Abby winked.

   Carol pressed the flask back into Abby's hands and held them. "Promise me you'll behave when she gets here?"

    "Okay, okay. Scout's honor."

    "Thank you." She squeezed Abby's hand affectionately. "And thanks for putting up with me. I know I've been a bit of a mess lately."  

   Abby studied her, her expression warm and compassionate. Truly, she didn’t deserve a friend like Abby, Carol thought. Abby who was bold and brassy in the very best way, and inspiringly strong and independent; and who was always there for her in exactly the way Carol needed. Even now, after all these years, after all their history.

   “Nonsense,” Abby said. “Actually, it’s a little fun to see the always refined, ever so polished Carol Aird acting all flustered and googly-eyed over a crush.” She made a dopey expression by crossing her eyes and letting her tongue hang out.

   "I am _not_ googly-eyed!"

   "Whatever you say," Abby murmured, just loud enough for Carol to still hear, before replacing her glasses on her nose and turning back to her computer.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a break for spring holiday, but finally got to writing again. Love your comments, especially the little anecdotes about things people are relating to in the story. Thanks for sharing.


	7. Into the Mystic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok here ya go!  
> This chapter turned out much longer than the others, but I couldn't figure a good way to break it up so, have at it.

      Carol adjusted her face mask before dipping her large brush back in the can of industrial paint stripper. She dragged the brush across the top of the dark, heavily lacquered wood, perhaps with slightly less precision than she might have normally- the drink from Abby having given her a mild buzz. The activity wasn’t mentally stimulating enough to totally take her mind off the impending arrival of Therese, but it did at least give her something to physically occupy herself with, and so Carol worked steadily.

    She had crawled under the table and was busy coating it's underside when Abby finally came to get her, hollering into the warehouse, “Caaarrroollll! Wherever you are in there, your lunch date’s here!” Her voice was bright and sing-song, but Carol scowled under the table, knowing Abby’s use of the word ‘date’ had not been accidental.         

   She wriggled out from her spot and stood to see Abby coming in through the doorway with Therese in tow. The younger woman seemed to follow Abby with a rather cautious step, her hands wringing the strap from her bag that ran across her chest. But when Therese’s eyes found Carol’s, her face immediately flooded with warmth, dimples appearing at her cheeks as she smiled and released her grip on her bag to give Carol a small wave. And Carol felt the same leaping sensation that occurred whenever she caught those green eyes; a curious tickle which fluttered somewhere between her heart and her navel.  _ Steady, girl.  _ “Hi there,” she tried, but the sound that came out was warped and muffled.  _ Ugh, dummy! _ She flushed and pushed the face mask up onto the top of her head. “Whoops! Hello, Therese." 

   Abby stepped aside and leaned back against the wall, allowing Therese to come forward into the room. “Hi. I hope I’m not to early,” she said. 

   “No, no you’re just fine. Sorry, I got so caught up in work this morning I didn’t even realize it was near one o’clock already."

   Behind Therese, she saw Abby roll her eyes hugely. _Oh, shut up, Abby!_ Abby just smirked at her and slipped silently back out through the door. 

__ Therese pointed at Carol, flicking her finger up and down. “I em, like your outfit.” 

__ Carol looked down at herself. Her long, heavy apron was splattered with a year’s worth of paint and furniture stain, her hands were sheathed up to the elbow in thick rubber gloves in a garish shade of purple, and she wore blue, shower cap-like plastic booties over her shoes; all topped off with her face mask hat, she figured she must look quite a sight. “Oh, yes. I call it blue-collar chic.” She grabbed the sides of her apron and held them out as if it was a big party dress, and gave a little curtsy.

   Therese grinned and looked down at her own outfit. She was wearing a simple, dark-colored sun dress and a jean jacket rolled a few times at the cuff. She ran her hands over the front of the jacket, and shook her head, tutting with disapproval. “And to think, I just changed out of my coveralls last minute.” She sighed and shrugged, then turned her attention to the room, surveying all the furniture and equipment with interest. “This is quite the setup you have here,” she said.

   “Have a look ‘round if you like,” Carol replied, gesturing widely around the room. “We get a fair amount of work from people in the area, elderly couples with their antiques and what not, but most of it Abby and I scout out at flea markets and consignment shops ourselves. We’ve got a good relationship with the furniture house next door too; they sell a lot of it for us.” She tugged blindly on the fingertips of her gloves to loosen them, unable to take her eyes off Therese’s form. Carol watched as she wove her way through the various in-progress works that filled the warehouse, kindly nodding along to her own nervous rambling. 

   Therese paused at the huge grand piano sitting in the corner, and gently ran her fingers across the top of the keys. “Oh Carol,” she sighed, “this is absolutely gorgeous.” 

   Carol was surprised to hear the breathy reverence in her voice. She slipped the mask and apron off over head, flinging both along with the gloves in the direction of a nearby chair, and walked over to where Therese was standing admiring the piano. As she came up next to her from behind, she hesitated, but then reached up and gently placed a hand on Therese’s shoulder. Therese jerked a little in surprise, but she didn’t move away, much to Carol’s satisfaction, and let her hand rest there as they both looked over the instrument. “This has been quite the project. I’m not sure whatever possessed me to think I was qualified to fix up a one hundred-year-old piano. It still needs some work."

   “It’s wonderful,” breathed Therese, now running her index finger along the contours of the ornately carved music rack. 

   “Do you play?” Carol asked. 

   “Not well. My father played. He was pretty talented actually, and he taught me some. But we- we didn’t have one at the home.”    

   Carol caught the odd phrasing. Not _my_ home, or _our_ home, or even just home. _The_ home. 

   Therese then turned to face Carol, who let her hand slide off the woman’s shoulder somewhat reluctantly. “I’ve always wanted to learn to play really well though,” she finished softly. 

   They were standing very close to each other now, and the question Carol had been about to ask died in her throat. She could have counted every freckle on Therese’s nose. Carol saw that her emerald eyes were dappled with little flecks of yellow. She hadn’t noticed before. And was it her imagination, or had Therese just moved an inch closer? 

   It would seem these wordless staring contests were becoming a thing of habit during their meetings, and however intently she bore into Therese’s eyes now, it was matched equally by Therese’s own intensely deep and searching gaze. And too it seemed, Carol could no longer doubt it, there was definitely _something_ unfolding between them. 

   As if to confirm this conclusion, Abby burst back into the room at that moment. “Carol, have you seen my— Oh. Sorry.” Her eyes quickly flashed back and forth between Carol and Therese, who had startled at Abby’s entrance and leapt backwards, bumping into the piano and causing the fallboard to crash down. The ringing thud of wood hitting wood echoed harshly around the room, and whatever spell that had existed in the seconds before was broken. "I didn’t mean to, er, I just need my…” Abby looked around wildly, and then snatched up a black binder from a faded-green winged armchair that was waiting to be reupholstered, “… order log. I- I’ll just go now.” 

   “No, we need to get going anyway,” said Carol, waving away Abby’s apologetic murmurings. She turned to Therese who was now deeply pink in the face. “Still with me?”

   “Yes,” she said. The reply soft, but confident.   

   “Good. After you.” She followed Therese past Abby and into the front office. “I’ll be right there, just need to grab my purse,” she said, and Therese nodded and went out main door. 

   Abby came in behind her as she was pulling her bag from the desk drawer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way."

   “In the way of what?” And Carol tried to sound casual. 

   “I don’t know, whatever was happening or was about to happen in there,” said Abby, sliding into the desk chair and wiggling her eyebrows up and down at Carol. 

   “You have a vivid imagination, Abigail,” she chimed. And though this was often true of Abby, Carol knew it wasn’t quite the case here. “I’ll see you in a bit,” she called, heading for the door. 

   “Carol, wait.”

   With her hand already on the front door handle, Carol turned back. “What now? I really should go Abby, she’s waiting.”

   “Well fine then,” grumbled Abby, swiveling in the chair away from Carol’s direction and throwing her arms in the air. “But I might look down if were you.”

   “Huh? Look _down_?” Carol glanced down and saw she was still wearing the ridiculous plastic booties over her shoes. “Oh, damn! Thanks!” she huffed, quickly ripping them off. “Sorry.”

   But Abby was smiling back at her again, with her usual mischievous grin. She winked. “See you later.”

 

* * *

 

  Therese had to wait about thirty seconds before Carol finally pushed out the front door of Aird & Gerhard’s after her, but she’d been glad for the brief chance to collect herself in the fresh air after whatever it was that had just happened with Carol in the warehouse. She was still feeling rather warm around the collar. Abby’s interruption managed to simultaneously both diffuse and amplify the intensity of the situation; because while Abby had broken whatever strange, ethereal and magnetic force that had seemed to encircle them in that instant, didn’t Abby’s reaction also serve as proof that the force had in fact existed in the first place? That the ferocity of the gaze she’d held with Carol was not merely in her own head?

   When Carol appeared from the door she was bearing that signature wide, rouge-adorned smile, which Therese had spent the last twenty-four hours thinking about incessantly. “You driving?” Therese asked her. 

   Carol pointed down the sidewalk in the direction of the ocean and declared, “No. I thought we’d walk.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, slipped on a pair of large, black-framed, cat-eye sunglass, and marched right past Therese.  _ Fuck, could she look anymore like a goddamn movie star? _

   Carol made it about three paces down the sidewalk, stopped, and spun around. She lifted her glasses up to her forehead and looked at Therese imploringly. “Well come on, slowpoke!” she called, waving Therese forward. 

   Therese snapped back to action and hurried after Carol, quickly falling into step alongside her. She was hyper-conscious of all her body movements. Everything felt strange, like she couldn’t remember how she normally walked. _Dear god, do my arms always swing this much? Fuck. What do I usually do with my arms?!_ She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jean jacket in an attempt to find some stability.

   After a few blocks, a younger man in a baseball cap and running shorts came into view, jogging towards them in the opposite direction. Therese studied him as he drew nearer and she supposed that conventionally, he was rather good-looking. His cut off t-shirt displayed tanned and well-muscled arms which were shining with sweat. Chestnut curls spilled out from under his cap onto a handsome face with well defined features and a nicely square jaw. _Tall, dark, and handsome, any girl’s dream_ , thought Therese. 

   But next to Carol? There was simply no comparison. 

   When the man was only a few feet away, Carol moved sideways, closer into her, to allow him to pass. The runner put his hand to his hat and pinched the brim, nodded his head slightly and called out, “Afternoon, ladies!” Therese gave one of those perfunctory, toothless smiles that were reserved exclusively for this kind of interaction with strangers on the street. The man passed them, but Carol didn’t move back to where she had been walking before, maintaining her place now elbow to elbow with Therese.

    It was like standing next to a divine, celestial being, Therese thought. The ambrosial scent of Carol's perfume engulfed her. Therese could feel the heat and energy emanating from Carol; every time their arms brushed she thought her flesh would surely melt at the touch. She was glad for her jacket, which was not only providing cover for the rash of goosebumps that had fled up her arms like wildfire, but the security of her pockets meant she could prevent herself from completely taking hold of Carol; for she had a sudden desperate desire to slip her arm through the crook of Carol’s elbow and pull her even closer, press their bodies tightly against one another, and if she disintegrated upon contact with the goddess, well then so be it.

   She chanced a sideways glance at Carol. Her head was tilted back towards the sun, a peaceful expression on her face. “MMmm, it’s just gorgeous out,” she moaned. “How are you liking California, Therese?” 

   “Well it’s negative eight in Minnesota right now, so I’ll let you draw your own conclusions there.”

   Carol gave a throaty laugh. “You don’t miss it at all?”

   Therese furrowed her brow at the question. She hadn’t really considered her feelings on the move. When she arrived, she’d been so consumed by the many strange feelings wrapped up in her issues with her mother, and then eventually with Carol, plus the shop to prepare, that there hadn’t been time to think of anything else. “No, not really,” she decided. “There was nothing there for me back there.”

   “I see. And do you think you might be able to find something here for yourself?”

   “I think so. Actually, I’d like to think that I might have already.” 

   From her peripherals she saw Carol turn and look at her, but Therese kept her eyes fixed ahead on the ocean horizon. She was sure if she met Carol’s gaze she’d melt into puddle right there on the pavement. 

   “I’m glad,” Carol said. Then she pointed just ahead to where there was a break in the facade of the buildings and announced, “We’re here.”

   Therese stopped at the spot where Carol had pointed and peered down the space between the two buildings. It was shadowy and unadorned. She looked around confusedly for some sort of door, and then she noticed a small tarnished metal sign that was affixed to the wall. An arrow pointed down the alley and the words read, ‘This way into The Mystic’. She followed the path of the arrow and noticed a set of stairs she hadn't observed at first glance, which disappeared up under and overhang at the end of the walk. 

   “After you,” Carol said and she put a hand to the center of Therese’s back, gently urging her forward. Though the hand fell away as Therese stepped ahead, she could still feel the spot where Carol had touched her, and the imprint of Carol's hand burned into her back like a white-hot branding iron, goading her forward into the gloom of the alleyway. 

   Much to her surprise, the top of the stairs opened up onto a beautiful, rooftop patio. The restaurant seemed to have materialized like magic from the nothingness of the street below, and Therese couldn’t help but feel like Alice, emerging through the looking glass. To the left, an indoor seating area was enclosed by floor to ceiling glass windows. To the right, an array outdoor cafe tables looked out onto a brilliant, unobstructed view of the ocean. It was a clear day and the water was brilliantly blue. From this lofty viewpoint it appeared more vast and magnificent to Therese than she had yet to fathom. She’d seen many a lake, but there had been nothing quite like this in Minnesota.

   They stood by the little check-in podium and after a few short moments an older gentleman, perhaps in his late fifties Therese might’ve guessed, came hurrying over to them. He had on a straw, pork pie hat and a collarless button down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves to reveal tawny, tattooed forearms; and he wore a neatly trimmed, very distinguished silver beard and mustache. He came upon them and smiled hugely revealing dazzling white teeth and piercing sea-foam green eyes. Therese immediately thought of the sea god, Poseidon.     

   “Carol!” he boomed, capturing her hand and giving it a kiss, before pulling her into a hug. “We've missed you, here. We were beginning to think you’d forgotten about us over the holidays. Ah, but how is it my dear you are more and more beautiful every time you come? Hmmm? You’d have lured many a sailor away from the sea in my day, you know.”

   “Oh quit it, you old rogue. You use that same line every time I see you. How’s Jean? I've been meaning to give her a call.”

   “Oh fine, just fine. Jeanie's around here somewhere. She’ll want to say hello. Shall I get your usual table?”

   “Yes, but I’ll need it set for two today, Cyrus. This is my friend, Therese.” and Carol gestured to Therese who had been standing quietly behind her, observing this exchange with mute fascination. It really was like being with a movie star. 

   Poseidon- Cyrus, turned his attention to Therese and beamed. “Ah, I see. Well, two great beauties in one place. We are lucky today!” He took Therese’s hand and kissed it as he had done Carol's. “It’s a pleasure to meet any friend of our lovely Carol here. Welcome to ’The Mystic’!”

   Carol’s ‘usual table’ was right at end of the balcony so their view of the ocean was unimpeded by any other tables or guests. Their waiter, Kyle, a wiry college-age looking fellow whom Cyrus had carefully instructed to take the very best care them, had dashed off to fetch some waters for their table.

   “So are you old friends with Cyrus, or is he like an uncle or something?” Therese had to ask. 

   “No, not very old. I just come here a lot, too much probably. But Cyrus is a sweetheart and a big old softy as I’m sure you could tell, and I just adore his wife Jean. And of course, you can’t beat that view.” Carol turned to gaze dreamily out at the ocean. 

   Kyle appeared again with their waters. “Are you ladies ready to order?” he asked.

   “Sure,” chimed Carol, “I’ll have the house salad, with grilled chicken and extra avocado if you can. And a gin and tonic. Thanks.”

   Therese hadn’t even looked at her menu. She took up the thin leather booklet and stared down at it. Words popped out at her, lemon, shrimp, balsamic reduction, but she wasn’t comprehending complete sentences. She could feel Carol watching her and couldn’t focus. She handed the menu over to Kyle and mumbled, “Ahhhm, that sounds great actually. I'll have the same, all of it.” 

   “So,” Carol began as Kyle hurried off, “Tell me about yourself, Therese Belivet.” 

   “What do you want to know?”

   “Anything. Everything.”

   And it struck Therese how she felt the exact same way about Carol. “I’m not sure there’s anything all that interesting, to be honest,” she said. 

   Carol pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head, and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Therese found she was happy to be able to look into the striking, grey-blue eyes again, as if she had missed them in the mere twenty-some minutes Carol had been covering them. 

   “Well I think you’re very interesting,” Carol insisted. She leaned back and settled into her chair, and Therese once again got the feeling of being x-rayed. “Like, may I ask, what did you mean earlier... when you said you didn’t have a piano? And you said, _at the home_?"

   Therese had not expected this question at all, and she cursed herself inwardly for the slip up. Normally she would have deflected and tried to steer the conversation somewhere else, anywhere but her childhood. However, she wanted to know things about Carol too, ask her personal questions, and how could she do that without being forthright herself. “Oh, yes, the home. That would be the children’s home, where I grew up.”

   Carol looked puzzled. “Oh but, your mother? I thought… the china shop? And your father, playing piano.”

   Therese fidgeted with her fork and spoon, and stared intently at the table. She watched the beads of condensation slowly roll down the side of her water glass, and took a deep breathe. “My mother… well she was never very nurturing to begin with. Then when my father died, cancer, I was eight… I don’t know, she just couldn’t handle it I guess. She dropped me off at the library one day, like always. But that time she never came back. Social services picked me up in the middle of the night and I went to live at the home. The letter from the lawyer about the will and the shop was the first I’d heard of her. I didn’t even know she was in California, or even if she was alive.”

   Therese had never told anyone this before. Dannie and Phil knew her relationship to her mother hadn't been good, but even they didn't know the whole story. She flicked her eyes up from the table to search for Carol’s reaction. Carol had one hand over her mouth and her eyes were glassy and full of sadness, and Therese hated that she’d made Carol look like that. "I'm sorry," she said. "This is depressing. It doesn’t really matter anymore anyhow. Let’s talk about… ,” and she glanced around aimlessly for some source of inspiration, but nothing came to her. “I don't know, just something else.” 

   “My god, Therese. I- I can’t imagine. For a mother to… I mean—.”

   “It’s fine.” Therese interjected and tried to give Carol an assuring look. “I got over it. Well, I learned to deal with it anyway. And it wasn’t so bad. The women who ran it were nice enough. It was like having a bunch of aunts and grandmas and tons of cousins to play with all the time.” This was not exactly how Therese had ever felt growing up, but she was desperate to hurry away the anguished look from Carol’s face. 

   And then a thought came to her. “Windchimes!” Therese practically shouted the word. 

   Carol looked completely thrown at the exclamation. “I’m sorry, what?” 

   And Therese told her all about the Garden of Eden, and the wind chimes, and the happiness she had felt there. She told her how much it had meant when she’d arrived and seen the ones that Carol and Rindy had made, hanging above the shop. And Carol was smiling again, and Therese was pleased. 

   Kyle came back at that moment with their drinks and salads and Therese held out her glass. “Cheers.”

   “Cheers.” Carol clinked their glasses together. 

   “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

   Carol eyed her somewhat skeptically, a forkful of salad suspended halfway to her mouth. “Okay, I suppose that’s only fair,” she finally said. 

   “Before, when you told me about how long you and Rindy had been living in the upstairs flat, well you only mentioned the two of you. Is her dad in the picture... or someone else?” 

   “Oh. Right to the big personal questions, I see. Whatever happened to, I don’t know... ‘what’s your favorite book’?”

   Therese raised her eyebrows. “I just told you about my now deceased mother who abandoned me at a library when I was eight. I think I get more than book.” 

   “Touche.” Carol swiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and took another sip of her drink. “Yes. There is a father. My husband Harge. But we’ve been separated almost two years, and the marriage was a wreck long before that. We're divorcing, very soon hopefully, pending some… minor complications."      

   Therese wanted to know what that meant, ‘minor complications’, but she was afraid to press Carol too much. “I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.

   “Don’t be,” Carol shrugged. "We weren’t em, _suited_ for one another, so to speak.” Before Therese could reply, she continued, “And what about you? Is there someone special in your life? What about those two handsome fellows I see you with downstairs?”

   “Who? Oh Dannie and Phil?!” The idea of herself with one of them was almost laughably ridiculous. However, it was also not missed by Therese that Carol’s words seemed to insinuate that the woman had been paying attention to her from afar, and this idea made her heart beat just a little faster. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head in answer to Carol’s question. “No, no. Dannie and Phil are like my brothers. Well _they_ actually are brothers, but I feel like a surrogate sibling. When I turned eighteen, I moved to the Twin Cities and was working in a department store down the street from the music store they worked in. I’d go in there during my breaks to dabble on the keyboards they kept on display and eventually we became good friends. I didn’t really know anyone else and they sort of took me under their wing.”

   “I see. Well you’re very lucky in that case to have such fine friends.”

   “Yes, I really am. But no, there’s no one special in my life in _that_ way. I’m open though, to finding the right person _.”_

   “Carol, my darling!” A cheery, melodic voice came ringing across the patio. The source of the call appeared to be a sprightly, middle-aged woman, who was bustling towards them, weaving between startled customers with a delighted smile across her face and her arms waving spiritedly above her head. She wore a splashy floral tunic, and her neck, wrists and fingers all glittered with countless silver and stone bangles and bobbles. The woman wrapped Carol in an affectionate hug and Therese watched awkwardly from her seat, feeling like she was intruding on the reunion of a long lost mother and daughter. 

   The woman turned out to be Cyrus's wife Jean. She seemed thrilled when Carol introduced Therese, stating that in her opinion, Carol spent far too much time eating alone and looking glum. She chattered on about her Christmas with 'Cy', assured Therese that a music shop was just what the little beach community needed and she had no doubt it would be simply fabulous, made Carol promise to grab a coffee with her soon, and oh it would be so lovely if Therese would join them too. Then with another hug for Carol and a squeeze of Therese’s hand, Jean left them alone once again. 

   The rest of lunch passed pleasantly, with an ease in intensity, both in the level of Therese's anxiousness, and in the line of questioning between the two women. They didn't talk anymore about dead mothers, soon-to-be ex-husbands, or that ever-dangerous business, love.      

    Carol talked of her daughter, telling Therese all about Rindy's flair for art, music, and in general, being way to smart for her own good. She had Therese giggling furiously at a story of how she'd accidentally dyed her hands a deep red-orange with cherry furniture stain and had to endure a week's worth of strange stares and comments from everyone from the bank teller, to the butcher, to Rindy's teacher who had asked Carol in a nervous whisper at the first PTA meeting of the year if it meant that they were part of some unusual religious sect she should know about. 

    Therese did ask what Carol's favorite book was, _Pride and Prejudice_ , and enjoyed the look of utter shock and horror she elicited from the older woman when she pretended that she'd never heard of it.  

    “Yes Carol, I have read Jane Austen,” Therese chuckled. “I’m not _that_ much younger than you, and I still know the classics.” 

    “All right, what's your favorite book then? And I swear to God, if you say _50 Shades of Grey_ Therese, I will have to leave right here and right now.” 

    “Ooo, well... ,” Therese grimaced. 

    “No,” Carol pleaded. 

    “I'm kidding! God, you are too easy, it's not even fun. Mine is,  _ A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. _ ” 

    “Oooh, interesting. And tell me, why is— .” Carol’s phone started to ring. “Oops, sorry. One sec, let me just see…,” she fished in her purse on the ground, “…in case it’s Rindy.” But when she looked at the screen her brows knit together. “Oh. It’s Abby.” 

   Therese hoped Carol would just put the phone back. Silence the ringer, and silence Abby. Abby who had already interrupted one moment today, and Therese wasn’t excited for her to do so again. But she could see the unsettled look that had appeared on Carol’s face as she held the phone. “Go ahead and answer it,” she told her. 

   “I’m sorry.” And Carol did indeed look very sorry, which made Therese feel slightly better about it. “It’s just, I don’t think she’d be calling right now if it wasn’t something really important. I’ll be right back, I promise.” 

   As Carol got up from the table she passed very close, and Therese caught the scent of her perfume once more. She closed her eyes and sat very still. She wanted to memorize it. 

   “Um, excuse me miss.” 

   Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw it was Kyle, the waiter, who had spoken. 

   “I was just wondering if you were interested in dessert this afternoon?” 

   Therese explained that she wasn’t certain, and Kyle left a menu just in case. She peered around the patio, trying to spot Carol, but she was nowhere to be seen, and Therese surmised that she must’ve gone down the stairs to take the call from Abby. 

   She pulled the menu towards her, for a lack of anything better to do, and ran her fingers along the front cover, where ‘The Mystic’ was embossed into the leather, in the same lettering as the little sign down in the alley. _This way into The Mystic…_ and Therese now wondered whether or not Cyrus had named his restaurant for the Van Morrison song. She looked out onto the horizon where the two boundless expanses of blue kissed each other and the lyrics came to her, _‘smell the sea and feel the sky… let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic’,_ and she decided that yes, that must be where the name came from. 

_‘Magnificently we will float into the mystic’._ And Therese felt as if she already was. Tumbling _magnificently_ into the great unknown with Carol. 

_Hmm,_ maybe they should have dessert. And then wouldn’t that be the perfect opportunity to ask Carol to be her New Year’s Eve date? She opened the menu to browse the offerings, now bristling with a new restive eagerness. 

   “Therese.” 

   She swung her head around at the sound of her name, and when she saw her, she felt the smile slide off her face. _What the hell is she doing here?_ For it wasn’t Carol, but Abby, who was standing before her now. 

   “Hey, sorry. Um Carol, she’s still on the phone downstairs. She told me to come get you. There’s a thing going on with her husband Harge and Rindy. We’ve got to go.” 

   Therese just stared at her blankly for a moment. “I, uh… what now?” 

   “She’s got to go take care of something with her husband Harge. Right now, unfortunately.” 

    Dumbly, all Therese could think was how she wished Abby would stop saying ‘her  _ husband _ ’. She closed the menu and stuttered a few more incomprehensible words of confusion. Eventually she got out, “The check, er, I need to get.” 

    Abby gave her a pitying look as she picked up Carol’s purse from the other side of the table. “It’s all taken care of. Just grab your things.” 

 

   Carol was just hanging up the phone when they emerged from the alley onto the sidewalk. Her hair was strangely mussed, as if she been dragging her fingers through it, tugging at the roots. 

   “What did Ruby say?” burst out Abby, before Therese could say anything. 

   “She said he just showed up. Said he wanted to take her for a ' _ father-daughter outing' _ . Ruby’s got him there now. They were watching a movie and she convinced him to stay and let Rindy finish. But damn it Abby, why? Why now? No interest for two years, and now he’s suddenly taking her on an outing? And he doesn’t even ask me? For fuck’s sake! He’s got to know I’m not letting him drive her anywhere.” 

   Finally she turned to Therese, who felt like she must’ve just crash landed in the middle of one of those ‘minor complications’ Carol had mentioned earlier. Could it really be they were sitting up there drinking, talking, laughing, blissfully ignorant to the rest of the world, not ten minutes ago?

   “Therese, I’m so sorry.” she pleaded. And again, Carol looked genuinely regretful. “I didn’t want to ruin the… it’s just Harge, he—.” 

   “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain.” Carol only seemed to be working herself up more. “I get it.”  

   Carol gave her a small appreciative smile, though it did not completely mask the distress in her expression. “We’ll drop you off at the music shop, it’s on the way.” 

   Therese nodded and stepped towards the car, before she remembered. “No wait, my car. It’s still at your work.”

   “That’s the other direction,” Abby said to Carol, “we really should go straight there. Otherwise—.” 

   “You know, I’ll just walk back,” Therese interjected. 

   “No. I can’t do that,” Carol was shaking her head at her, “cut our lunch and then make you walk alone.” 

   “It’s okay. Really. This is obviously important. You should hurry.” She gestured Carol towards the car. 

   At this, Abby took no second glances, murmuring a quick, “See you, Therese,” before dashing around the car and into the driver’s seat. 

   But Carol stepped away from the car, and instead moved towards Therese; and to her surprise, Carol took up both of Therese’s hands in her own. “Thank you. For being so understanding, Therese. Can I- can I call you later tonight?” 

   In Carol’s hands, her own felt on fire. “Yes. I’d like that,” she croaked. 

   And then, even more unexpected, Carol leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Not a swift, sisterly peck; but one which lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, Carol's lower lip brushing softly along her cheekbone as she pulled away. And everything was on fire now. 

   Therese was hardly cognizant of anything that followed, only mildly aware of Carol’s goodbye and waving to her as they pulled away. She waited until the car was out of site before she brought her hand up to her cheek, pressing her fingers to the spot where Carol’s lips had been. She was aware that she was smiling. 

   To Therese's right, was the way back to Aird & Gerhard Restoration, and her car. But Therese turned to her left, and started down the sidewalk in the direction of the beach. Dannie and Phil and the shop could wait, she had a sudden urge to take a walk, to meet the great blue. And she was floating again. Magnificently. 

 

* * *

[Van Morrison - Into the Mystic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEvsDuJYEnI)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for the lovely comments and feedback! I'm just having a lot of fun writing this, so it's nice to hear people enjoy reading it too. :)


	8. What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

   Carol drove along, exhausted, with just one hand on the wheel, her head propped wearily in the other as she leaned on the window ledge. It was just passing five pm by the car clock, and the winter sun was sitting low in the sky. It hovered precariously just above the ocean horizon, casting long crooked shadows in the street and bathing the world in a rusted glow. Any other day and she might’ve pulled over to enjoy the sunset, but now she was anxious to get home.  _ What a fucking day. _

   Pulling up to a stop light she glanced over her shoulder at the back seat. Rindy was fast asleep. A few of her dirty blonde curls were stuck to her cheeks, cheeks that were still round with baby fat, and her mouth hung wide open. Sugar crash. Not to be unexpected though after the enormous ice cream cone Harge had bought her on the pier. Carol hadn’t even tried to protest. Rindy wouldn’t have understood. And she wasn’t about to let Harge waltz in and out of their lives whenever the fuck he pleased and make her look like mean one in the eyes of her own kid.  _ My kid. MY kid. She’s my girl you asshole. You lost that right.  _ It was bad enough as it was she’d been forced to spend all afternoon with him. 

   “Unfortunately there’s just no time today, Harge. Rindy and I already have plans for the afternoon with a friend of mine,” she’d argued with him on Ruby Robichek’s front porch. 

   Harge had just laughed at that. Laughed right in her face. “Ha ha plans with who, Carol? Abby? Good lord, you can cancel on Abby.” And then, when she’d tried to object further, "Come on, I know you Carol. You don’t  _ have _ other friends.” 

_    Prick. _ She  _ was _ lying of course about the afternoon, but who was he to say she had no friends?  _ I never liked those phony, puffed-up, painfully self-absorbed wives of all your business partners you were always trying to push me towards if that what you mean, Harge. I never did make it into their coveted little club, did I?  _

__  She remembered the way that gang of sour housewives would all stare at her throughout those fancy dinners, or charity luncheons, or ridiculous holiday parties she always had to accompany Harge to. She remembered the raised eyebrows, and the sneers, and the way the buzz of conversation would conspicuously die out whenever she entered the group. They knew, they all knew. About Harge and his ‘business trips’, his parade of private ‘secretaries’. Hell, he probably fucked his way through half of those wives too, it wouldn’t surprise her. The fools. 

   But of course, it was still always her fault, Harge would say. Her fault that she hadn’t been invited to the latest spa weekend in Palm Springs or winery tour in the Napa Valley. She wasn’t trying hard enough, wasn’t friendly enough, needed to smile more. Her fault.

   And so she knew today there would be no convincing him, at least not without a huge fight in front of Rindy; and so far she had somehow managed to keep the little girl away from it. She couldn’t expose her, wouldn’t expose her, to the meanness of it all. Of course, Carol knew she would have to answer to her daughter someday. There would surely be many questions. But Rindy was too young just now, too sweet, too innocent. 

_    But you're not just protecting her now, are you Carol? You are protecting yourself and you know it. _ And it was true. Because more than anything she was scared, terrified in fact, that her daughter would resent her and blame her for their broken family; that Rindy, like Harge, would say it was all her fault. 

   Therefore, she had found herself today strolling, or more like resentfully trudging along, the Santa Cecelia Pier with Rindy and her father. For though she couldn’t get Harge to drop the idea of an outing, she certainly wasn’t going to let him take Rindy out on his own. But Harge had relished every minute of it. It was exactly what he wanted. A happy trio out on the town. The image of the perfect little family that they had never been. But she wasn’t happy, and he was so deluded he couldn’t even see it.  _ Or he just doesn’t give a shit.  _

__  She thought about the way he kept trying to hold her hand all afternoon, or put his own to the small of her back as they pushed through the crowds, like it was natural. But nothing about it was natural. Carol couldn’t even remember the last time they had held hands like a real couple. Finally, when Rindy was distracted by a display of kites outside one of the little shops, she’d turned to him and huffed seethingly through gritted teeth, “Stop fucking touching me.” He even had the nerve then to look hurt at her words. What the hell was his angle here _? _

   She longed to be home and in the shower, to be able to wash him off of her. Though it wasn’t just the muck of this ugly afternoon that plagued her. At nearly thirty-four years old now, there was fifteen years of toxic grime built up. A film so deep, Carol wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to scrub herself completely clean of Harge Aird. 

   And then, there was Therese to think about.  _ Ohh, Therese. _ Carol had to talk to her, explain herself. But she was scared of that too. She wanted more with Therese, she knew that for certain now, but would Therese really want someone who brought so much baggage with her? A bad marriage, full of secrets and lies. A husband who wouldn’t leave her. Was it fair to even ask Therese to take that on? She was still so young. She was smart, and she was beautiful. Surely all kinds of far less complicated relationships would come her way. But Carol wanted her. She didn’t think she could stop wanting her. Despite their time today being cut short, Carol had felt happier, more herself, in just that brief window than she had felt in a long time. And be damned if she was going to let Harge ruin that. 

   Maybe it was time after all to take a more aggressive route with the lawyers. Abby had been urging her for months to do so, but she had been reluctant, still hoping to keep things peaceful for Rindy’s sake. Yet now it was really looking as though Harge wasn’t going to give her much choice. 

 

   “Rindy, wake up, sweet pea” Carol called as she pulled into the lot behind the shop and the flat. Turning off the engine, she reached back and gently wiggled the little girl’s knee. 

   Rindy’s eyes opened slowly. She swiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and rubbed her small fists into her eyes. “Are we home?” she murmured. She sat up a little to look out the window, but the sun had since set and everything was already blanketed in darkness. “It's night time already? I didn’t know I f-faaalled asleep,” she yawned. 

   “Just for a little bit, it’s only five-thirty. Come on, let’s get upstairs. I want you to take a bath and put on your pj’s, you’ve got chocolate ice cream all down the front of your shirt, missy. How does spaghetti sound for dinner?” 

   “Okay, but don’t put icky red sauce on it.”

   Carol rolled her eyes. Her little picky eater. “No red sauce for you, I promise.” she said, drawing an ‘x’ over her heart with her index finger.

   “Good…  Mama?”

   “Yeah, snowflake.” 

   “Can you carry me? I’m plum tuckered out,” she said very seriously, letting her head fall back against the seat. 

   Carol laughed. “Where on earth did you get that expression?”

   “Ms. Ruby said it to me. I liked it. Plummmm. Tucckkerrred. Out,” she chirped. 

_ Ms. Ruby _ . That was another thing Carol would have to figure out; she was probably going to have to find a new sitter now. Ruby Robichek had to be nearing seventy, and just Rindy alone, high spirited as she was, could already be a lot to handle. Now Harge had shown up unannounced at the poor woman’s home, demanding to take the child out her care, scaring her half to death. Though she had seemed understanding enough about it this afternoon, Carol certainly couldn’t blame her if she decided it was all just too much. 

   She turned back to Rindy who was staring back at her with heavy lids that blinked slowly, waiting for a reply. Carol smiled softly and tried to push away the doleful feeling that was spreading within her. “Ok baby, I’ll carry you up. It’s been a long day.” 

   When Carol got out of the car, she looked around instinctively for the little green hatchback she knew belonged to Therese. It wasn’t there, Therese must’ve gone home already. She would call her as soon as she put Rindy to bed. 

 

* * *

 

   Laying lengthwise on the couch, Therese stared up at the huge clock on the wall above her. It had to be about three feet round, like a wagon wheel, with great roman numerals each the size of a man's hand encircling it. She’d thought it was fun and artsy when she’d bought it, but now the time seemed to glare out at her with a malicious severity. SEVEN-THIRTY it shouted. She drummed her fingers restlessly on her knees. Carol hadn’t said when she was going to call. Therese checked her phone again to make sure the ringer volume was all the way up, though she’d already done this several times over the course of the evening.  _ Jesus, I’m pathetic. Do something with yourself. _

   She waited another few seconds before finally pulling herself up off the couch, and wandering over into the kitchen. A quick glance in the fridge and she decided she wasn’t all that hungry, instead taking up a half-drunk bottle of wine from the counter. After pouring herself a generous glass, she stood and surveyed the apartment. Nothing arose as of any real interest, and soon Therese found herself back on the couch, wine glass clinched in hand, and her phone carefully placed on her lap ready to be answered. 

   SEVEN-THIRTY-EIGHT the clock screamed at her when she looked up. She maneuvered around and put her feet up on the coffee table instead, so her back was to the clock now and she wouldn't have to watch it tick out every pitiful second of her existence. 

   At her feet, she saw the book she’d been reading, left abandoned on the coffee table, and she picked it up hoping it might provide some distraction. She flicked through the pages unenthusiastically until she found the dog-eared chapter she’d left off on. For the next hour she read with a distracted discomfort, so anxious about the call from Carol that either was or was not to come, that she found herself reading the same sentences and passages over and over without extracting any meaning. Her mind wandered incessantly to Carol, and Rindy, and the mysterious husband, and the ocean, and moment when Carol had kissed her on the cheek.

    Then at last, it rang. Therese flew into a sitting position, flinging her book aside gracelessly, and started frantically running her fingers through her hair to smooth it before realizing that Carol couldn’t actually see her. A deep breath, and she hit the answer button.  

   “Hi,” she breathed with an excited tremble, settling back against the cushions. She picked up one of the throw pillows next to her and hugged it to her chest. “I uh, thought maybe you weren’t going to call.” 

   “I’m sorry. I should’ve texted or something. I wanted to put Rindy to bed first. Is it too late? Should I call tomorr—?” 

   “Oh no, it’s fine. Perfect. I’m just glad you called is all.” 

   “Well I wanted to explain. I’m so sorry for up and leaving you the way I did.” 

   “Carol, will you stop apologizing? It’s really fine.” She hesitated, not wanting to overstep. “So, uh, is everything all right? I mean with er… your husband?” 

   “Don’t call him that, please.  _ Husband _ .” Carol muttered the word like a taboo. “Ex, is just fine. Or Harge. I know he still is…  _ that. _ Legally, I know. But I don’t want it. And I don’t feel it. I just want to be done with it.”

   Therese might’ve been happy at this, relieved in knowing that Carol didn’t harbor any lingering feelings for her husband, if it wasn’t for the despondence in her voice. Instead she just felt sorry for her. “What happened today? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”    

   “Oh, he was just being typical Harge. Doing whatever he wants to do without considering or caring how it affects anyone else. He showed up at the office and demanded to see Rindy. Suddenly decided he wanted to take her on an outing. Then when Abby told him she was at the sitter’s and he’d have to wait for me, he just went ahead and showed up there.”    

   Carol paused and Therese waited for her to continue. 

   “Understand now he’s only cared to even see her a handful of times since we separated. And he just came out of the blue. Didn’t think to ask me, tell me. Totally frightened poor old Mrs. Robichek. He- I can’t… I  _ have _ to be there for Rindy around him. God I sound like one of those insane over-protective mothers don’t I?” 

   “Well as you know, I don’t have a lot of experience with mothers. But to me, you just sound like someone who loves their kid a whole lot, and I can’t see anything wrong with that.” 

   Carol sighed. “He’s just… not a good man.”

   “I believe you.” 

   “Thank you, Therese. Anyway, I ended up having to spend all afternoon with him at the pier. Of course Rindy was just fine, but I would much rather have continued on with you. I was having a really nice time today.”

   Therese clutched the pillow tighter. “Yeah, me too.” 

   “You, I don’t know, you make me feel comfortable. Like I was meant to know you."

   Therese was breathing hard. This was her chance. She bit down on her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut, mentally stirring up the courage to ask the question. 

   Before she could say anything Carol started again. “Therese. I… I like you.”

   Her eyes flew open and her breath hitched. 

   “And, well, I was hoping that maybe you might like to go out again some time, but you know, not just lunch, as friends, I mean an actual da— .” 

   “Wait, stop!” Therese interrupted her, leaping up off the couch as if zapped by an electric shock, and violently banging her shin into the corner of the coffee table. “Aaaaggghh… ffuuuugghhh,” she heaved in a muffled groan, biting down on her knuckles as pain immediately shot through her leg. 

   “Oh. Uhh… s- sorry. Sorry.”  Carol voice was faint now, layered with a discernibly wounded quaver that nearly broke Therese’s heart. “I just thought… I mean, it’s fine. I understand.” 

   “No, no!” Therese panted, sinking gingerly back onto couch. “Carol, I would love to go on a date with you. I just didn’t want you to ask me out because- well because I wanted be the one to ask  _ you _ . Actually, I was going to ask you over dessert at lunch today, but then, well you had to leave and I didn’t have a chance.”  There was several long moments of silence, and then, laughter on the line; Carol’s lovely and effervescent giggle, a sound which tugged out a small smile on Therese's own lips despite her confusion. “Ha… what’s so funny?”

   “You. I mean, us. I mean, I was so nervous, and I just didn’t expect… fighting to ask each other out,” she chortled. There was a pause and then she heard Carol clear her throat softly before saying more steadily, “Well, okay then. Shoot."

   “Uhhh,  _ shoot _ ?”

   “Go ahead. Ask me on a date.” 

   “Didn’t I just—?”

   “No. I believe you said, you  _ wanted _ to ask me, you were  _ going _ to ask me. But you haven’t actually asked me. So go ahead. Ask me.”    

   Therese could almost see before her the glimmer in those blue-grey eyes and Carol's wide smile as she teased her. She suddenly felt very on-the-spot. Realizing how dry her mouth was she grabbed her wine and took a large, reviving gulp. “Okay. Carol… what are you doing New Year’s Eve?” 

   “Ahmm, no plans. Just me and Rindy at home. ”

   “Well, we’re having this New Year’s party at the music shop, a sort of soft-opening to get the word out. There’ll be music and dancing. Would… would you come as my date? You can bring Rindy too, I don’t mind. I’m sure she’d have fun.” 

   “Yes,” Carol answered almost before Therese had gotten all the words out. “I’d love to.” 

   Therese exhaled a sigh of relief and was thoroughly glad Carol couldn’t see what was surely the biggest, dopiest, rosiest grin that had ever come upon her face. “Great,” she managed to squeak.

   “Mmmm,” Carol hummed. “Music and dancing… a gorgeous woman. It sounds lovely. I can hardly wait.”    

   “Plus, the location is really great if you think about it. I mean, if I’m a terrible date, you won’t even have to get a cab to escape.”

   “You know, somehow I don’t anticipate that being a problem. I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

   Therese blushed even harder if that was at all possible. “I’m glad. Me too.”

   Both women were silent for several moments and all Therese could hear was Carol’s muted breathing and the constant ticking of that stupid, giant clock behind her. And yet, time seemed equally irrelevant in the space she shared with Carol. 

   “I guess I should probably go,” Carol said finally. “Send me all the details for New Year’s, okay? Time, dress code, all that.”    

   “Yeah, like you need a dress code. You’d look wonderful in anything.”  _ Or perhaps nothing at all _ , her mind chimed in wickedly.

   Carol clicked her tongue. “You’re sweet… Goodnight, Therese.”    

   “Goodnight, Carol.”

 

* * *

 

    Carol hummed gaily to herself as she performed her nightly routine. Hummed as she washed and brushed, changed and tidied up; and Harge was pushed away to the far reaches of her mind where he couldn’t further darken her day. There was simply no room for him now as she was filled to the brim with a new sense of blissful possibility and yearning.  

   She was far away as she turned down the covers on the bed, dreamily humming a few lines of Ella Fitzgerald’s  _ What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve,  _ when the soft creak of the bedroom door made her jump. She turned to see two big blue eyes peering shyly at her from around the door.  

   “Hey, snowflake. What’s wrong? Did I wake you up?”

   Rindy pushed the door open all the way, and took a few steps into the room, shaking her head somberly. “I can’t sleep.” 

   “Can’t sleep, huh?” said Carol, sitting down on the end of the bed and patting her hand on the spot next to her. 

   Rindy clambered up onto the bed. “Nope. I’ve been trying forever and ever and ever, but my brains won’t shut off,” and she knocked on her forehead with a fist.

   Carol chuckled. “I know the feeling.” 

   “Can I sleep here with you tonight?” Rindy quickly scrambled backwards towards the pillows without waiting for an answer, and pulled the comforter over her legs, then gazed up at her mother with a pleading pout Carol knew she could never say no to. “Pleeeeaaase?” 

   “Okay. Just for tonight, all right?” surrendered Carol, as she crawled in next to her. 

   Rindy grinned triumphantly. She lifted her shirt and pulled out a book that had been hiding, tucked into the waistband of her pajama pants. “And I was thinking you could read me another chapter,” she said slyly, pushing the copy of  _ Matilda _ onto Carol’s lap. 

   “Hey! That was pretty sneaky little girl,” laughed Carol, poking Rindy’s stomach playfully. “What else are you hiding in there? Any late night snacks to go with this?” 

   Rindy giggled and squirmed.

   “All right,” said Carol, settling back and picking up the book. “You win tonight, missy. Now where were we?” She thumbed through the pages until she found the marked chapter. “Okay. Here we go…  _ 'Bruce Bogtrotter and the Cake', _ ” she announced theatrically. 

   “Mama?” Rindy interrupted. 

   “What?” 

   “Were you talking to someone a little bit ago? Was that Aunt Abby?” 

   “No, I was on the phone with Therese.” 

   “The one who got me my ukulele?”

   “Uh-hmm.” 

   “Why were you talking to her?”

   Carol set the book back down in her lap. “Well, she invited me, actually she invited  _ us, _ to a party on New Year’s Eve. There’s going to be a band, and we’ll go dancing, and celebrate the new year. How does that sound?”

   Rindy sat up and turned to her mother with eyes that were wide and shining. “Really, me too?”

   “Yep.” 

   Rindy beamed and slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Now I’m never gonna sleep. I’m too excited.” She flopped back down against the pillows. “Mama, I like Therese.” 

   Carol put and arm around her and scooped her in close to her side. “Yeah… I like her too.” Smiling, she picked up the book again. “All right now, let’s find out about this Bruce Bogtrotter shall we?” She cleared her throat and began, “ _ ‘How can she get away with it?’ Lavender said to Matilda. ‘Surely the children go home and tell their mothers and fathers. I know… …  _ ”  __

  
  
  


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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long delay. I'm a grad student in addition to my day job and have been in the throes of finals, which left very little allowance for personal writing time. But, I have no intention of dropping this story. Hopefully this wasn't too boring of a chapter to come back in on. Thanks for your patience, and all those who've read, liked, or commented<3


	9. To Therese Belivet

**December 31, 2018**

 

    “Phil, let's move that mic about two feet to the left.”

    “Aye-aye, Captain.” Phil put a hand to his brow and gave her a small salute, but Therese thought she also caught him trade a dark glance with Dannie as he made the requested adjustment. She had been standing in front of the stage directing minute rearrangements of the equipment for the last half hour, and though Dannie and Phil were kindly going along with this, she could sense their patience with her was rapidly waning. But they would forgive her in due course; everything was going to be spectacular. It had to be.

    She tapped her finger pensively on her bottom lip. “You know, I think maybe the drum set should come forward about six inches too.”

   “Thereeessseee,” whined Dannie. “The drum set is fine where it is.”

   “Dannie, just half a foot is all I’m asking. Come on, I want it to look perfect.”   

   “No, that’s it. I’m serious. We’re not moving anything else.”

   Therese stared open-mouthed at Dannie, who stood with his arms crossed and glared back at her resolutely. She turned to Phil, hoping he would back her up, but he dropped his gaze as she tried to meet it and started shuffling his feet awkwardly.

   “Well fine!” she shot at them, throwing her arms in the air. “Damn it, I’ll just do it myself.”

   She charged for the stage, but Dannie lunged forward and intercepted her, placing a his hands on her shoulders and preventing her from climbing up. Before she could more than splutter an objection he spun her around so she faced the greater room. Standing behind her, he lowered his head so it was next to hers and spoke into her ear, “Therese, you’ve been at this all morning. Look what you’ve done already. It _is_ perfect.”

    She took in the room. First the ceiling, where gold and silver streamers shimmered across the beams in a woven fractal, alongside rows of soft, twinkling lights. Then to the opposite corner, where a stylish little bar had been erected, and champagne glasses were meticulously stacked in a glittering tower. The floor too was freshly mopped and shining underfoot, all the remaining moving boxes having been carefully packed away to make for a spacious dance floor.

   Therese let her shoulders relax under Dannie’s grip. “Okay. You’re right.”    

   “Excuse me? What’s that you say?” cried Dannie in mock incredulity, releasing her shoulders and cupping his hand to his ear.

   “You’re right, okay? It looks good.” She rolled her eyes at the I-told-you-so sort of smile Dannie was giving her, and allowed him a moment of satisfaction before adding a, “But.”

   The smile quickly disappeared and Dannie groaned. “Noooo, Therese. No ‘but’s!”

   “But the balloons! We still need them.”

   Dannie looked at her warily. “And then you’ll leave it?”

   “Just the balloons and then I’ll leave it. Promise.”  

   “Fine.”

   “Thank you. The helium tank is in the trunk of my—,” her phone started buzzing from her shirt pocket, halting her words, and Therese was both surprised and pleased upon taking it out to see Carol’s name illuminated on the screen. “—Car,” she finished. “Here, will you grab it?” She threw the keys in the brothers' general direction without taking her eyes off the device. “I’ve got to take this. It’s Carol.”

   Phil caught the keys, and then hooted, “Oooo-oooo! Did ya hear that Dannie? It’s _Carrroooollll_.”

   Dannie put his hands together at his cheek and adopted a high-pitched, girlish squeal, “Carol is so beautiful! Her eyes are blue like the sky in the morning. Her lips are red like- wait, wait. What was it she said, Phil?”

   “A field of poppies!” Phil chimed in through guffaws.

   This had been going on for a few days now, ever since she had come back from the beach after her lunch with Carol. Feeling positively smitten, and rather high on life at the time, she had admittedly perhaps been a wee bit too flamboyant with her descriptions of Carol as she talked over the afternoon with Dannie and Phil, and they had not yet ceased teasing her mercilessly about it.

   Therese gave them both the finger over her shoulder as she jogged away, calling back, “At least _I’ve_ got a date tonight! But don’t worry boys, I’m sure you two will make the prettiest couple at the party! Remind me, which one of you gets to lead when you slow dance together?”

   Entering the small back office, she smiled to herself at the sound of their extinguished laughter, knowing the jab had sobered them up. Making sure the door was shut tightly behind her, she answered the phone.

   “This is Therese!” Therese immediately hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. _‘This is Therese’? When the fuck did I start answering the phone like that? Idiot._

 “Hi. And uh, this is Carol.”

   Therese sunk down into the office chair and pulled her feet up under her, hugging her knees to her chest. “Yeah, I knew it was you. I don’t know why I said that. Ignore me. Please.”

   She could hear a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. “I don’t think I can do that. As a matter of fact, that’s partly why I’m calling. I was just thinking about you.”    

   Her ears perked at this. “Oh yeah?”

   “Yeah, I’m excited about tonight.”

   “Well I’m at the shop right now, you didn’t want to just come downstairs and tell me this yourself?”

   “I would, but I’m out right now shopping with Rindy. I guess I haven’t been paying enough attention to her growth spurts because we went to try on her dress clothes this morning and they were all way to small. I tried to talk her into jeans, but she insists on a party dress for her ‘big night out’ as she put it. I know. I spoil her.”

   Therese smiled. “No, it’s cute.”

   “And I saw Abby this morning. I couldn't stop gabbing to her all about your party. She’s going to go too. Actually, she’s never far when there’s dancing involved.”

   Therese let go of her legs, and her feet fell to the floor with a heavy thud. “Oh. Abby?” _You invited Abby!?!_

   “Yeah, she’s going to bri—“

   “That’s great! Awesome!” Therese yelped over Carol. Her voice was unnaturally high, with a horrible artificial heartiness to it.

   “Therese? Everything ok?”    

   “Yeah, fine. Fabulous!” _Except for you inviting someone else on our date._ Therese could feel her ears growing very hot, and a lump had begun to swell in her throat. She knew she needed to end the conversation quickly. “Uh, Carol, I’ve got to go. There’s still a lot to do here.”

   “Oh, okay. Of course. I’ll see you tonight then…  nine o'clock, at the bar, like we said right?”

   “Sure.”

   “All right…  Bye, Therese.”

   Therese hung up the phone without saying a good-bye. She tossed it aside and pressed her hands to her face, squeezing her eyes shut tight. _Don’t cry._

 After a few quiet moments hunched over the desk like this, she finally rose, straightened her shirt and tried to arrange her face so it wouldn’t betray anything to Dannie and Phil. When she came out of the office, she saw they were busy in the middle of the room working the helium tank and went over to join them.

    “How’s _Carrroooollll_?” asked Phil with a smirk.

    Therese grabbed an empty balloon and attached it to the nozzle of the tank, pushing down until the air started filling it. She watched it bulge and expand for a few seconds before answering. “Just great,” she muttered without looking at either of them. _So great in fact. All ready for our big date. Our big date together with Abby! Isn’t it just sooo romantic?! I always wanted to go out with Carol AND fucking Abby!!_

    “Therese, watch it!” Dannie shouted.

    She noticed too late— _BOOM!!_ The balloon she had been furiously inflating exploded. “Shit!” She flung the broken bits of rubber to the ground.

    “Um… Therese?” Phil started cautiously. “You okay?”

    “Yeah, is this about before? Are you mad at us for making fun of you?” asked Dannie. “Cause seriously, we didn’t mean anything by it. We’ll knock it off. Promise.”

   “It’s not that,” she said, still not meeting their eyes.

   “Well… do you want to grab some lunch and talk about it? Whatever it is?” he tried.

   “I’m not hungry.”

   “You should really eat something,” added Phil. “It’s going to be a long day, and it might make you feel better.”

   “I said I’m not hungry!” she shouted back at them. Her chest was heaving and she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. “Do you think you two could finish these balloons up? I- I think I need to go home for a little while.” She opened her eyes and finally looked up at them to see both Dannie and Phil surveying her with concerned expressions.

    “Yeah Therese, we got it. Just… just let us know if you need anything, okay?” Dannie said softly.

    Therese nodded, and feeling a little badly about her outburst, gave each of them a quick hug before she marched out the door.

 

   When she got back to her apartment, Therese crawled into bed fully clothed, pulled the quilt all the way over her head and closed her eyes, though her mind was still racing.

_Maybe Carol doesn't actually like me that much and she doesn't want to be alone with me, and that’s why she invited Abby._

_But then why did she said yes to it the first place?_

_And didn't Carol try to ask ME out originally?_

_What the fuck?_

_And who is Abby anyway?_

_Carol’s business partner?_

_Her best friend?_

_Something… else?_

_Why the hell is she always around?_

_Interrupting us in the furniture warehouse, then at lunch… it’s like she’s doing it on purpose._

_No, stop it. You don’t know her._

_You don’t even know Carol that well._

_Not really._

_But that’s what this date was supposed to be for!_

_How am I supposed to do that now with Abby lurking around?_

Around and around it went in her mind like a sickening carousel she couldn’t get off, until finally Therese fell into a doze.

 

   The wet sand felt cool and spongy underfoot, and Therese dug her toes in experimentally, feeling the grit of it squish between the digits. Every few seconds as she walked along, the water to her left would roar and rush towards her in a stampede of ice white foam and sea green. It crashed and broke, and by the time it reached her, it was just a gentle roll, barely lapping at her feet before making it’s urgent retreat, only to repeat the process over again. Stones tumbled in the wash and were half-buried in the sand, glinting with blues and greens and oranges where their tops stuck out and were hit by the low, afternoon sunlight.

   On her other side, a tall, slender blonde with eyes the color of morning sky, and lips red like a field of poppies walked along next to her. Carol’s hand, red-nailed and misted with freckles, hung loosely at her side. Therese took it, intertwining their fingers, and it fit perfectly into hers as if it was her own.

   Carol turned to her and smiled. Therese could see that the sun’s rays did not just fall upon Carol like they did other people. They went inside her. She absorbed them. She glowed.

   They walked and walked on a beach that seemed to have no end. No jetties, or piers. No other landmarks to judge the distance traveled. Only the slow, steady cadence of the waves marked the passage of time. Swelling, crashing, rolling. Swelling, crashing, rolling. The sea spray tickled her face, and the briny scent of the shore mingled with Carol’s perfume. The sun was deliciously warm, and Carol was warm at her side, and it was bliss.

   A bird circled the sky in front of them, gliding effortlessly between ocean and land, until finally swooping down to rest in the sand just a few yards ahead of them. Its opalescent feathers flickered from purple to blue to gold, juxtaposed next to a blazing, scarlet underbelly. Therese didn’t have a lot of experience with the ocean, but she was pretty certain this was no regular sea bird. Letting go of Carol’s hand, she slowly inched forward for a closer look. The strange bird seemed to take no notice of her, unmoving and staring blankly out to sea; but when Therese had nearly come upon it, the bird suddenly bent its long legs, gave a great flap of it’s wings and took off.  

   She turned back to where she’d left Carol, but the blonde wasn’t there anymore. In fact, Carol seemed to have disappeared from the water’s edge entirely, and now there was only one set of footprints instead of two along the path they’d just come.

   Just then she heard Carol’s laugh from somewhere nearby, brightly echoing through the breeze. Therese spun around with a grin, expecting to find Carol there, laughing at the trick she’d played, but Therese's smile melted when she saw her. Carol was there, but she wasn't looking at Therese. She was now sitting higher up on the beach, where the sand was dry and golden. She wasn’t alone either. A woman sat next to her, dark-haired and faceless, but Therese knew who it was. Where had Abby come from?

   The two women laughed together, Carol throwing her head back in a great crow and tossing her hair back and forth in the wind. Therese tried to call out to call out to her, opened her mouth to shout, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper that was easily strangled by the rushing of the water. She waved her hands through the air, but Carol, deep in conversation with Abby, took no notice of her. Therese made to run to her, but her feet had sunk into the wet sand several inches, and it was like trying to wrench them from cold molasses. With every step she didn’t seem to be making any progress towards the dry beach. The water was coming faster and harder now, first flooding over her ankles, then up to her shins with the next wave, then past her knees, and she was exhausted with every pull of her foot from the muck. Why couldn’t she reach her? She shouted again, but Carol couldn’t hear, didn’t see…

 

   Therese awoke in a sweat, the air under the covers stale and stifling. She threw off the quilt and sucked in the cool, fresh air hungrily, then stared at the blank ceiling for a few moments, concentrating on a fuzzy image of Carol and Abby laughing together in the sand. Pulling the pillow from under her head, she pressed it to her face so it muffled the groan she then screamed into it.

   A long, low grumble from her stomach brought her back to reality, and Therese remembered that she hadn’t eaten anything since a light breakfast of coffee and toast early that morning. She hunted around for her phone to check the time and finally found it buried under the blankets.

    _Shit! Shit! Shit!_

   What she thought had been a nice, short nap hadn't been so short after all. There was hardly any time now before she was supposed to be back at the shop. She had several missed texts and calls from both Dannie and Phil, worried because they hadn’t heard from her since she had left so abruptly. Dashing off some quick assurances to them, she scrambled out of bed and sprinted into the shower.

   Thirty minutes later, Therese stood in front of the long mirror on her closet, taking in the somewhat unfamiliar appearance of the young woman opposite her. She was taller tonight, having squeezed her feet into her only pair of high heels, which she rarely ever wore. She had also added a few curls to her invariably stick-straight hair, and supplemented the usual light make-up with a touch of eye-liner and lipstick. She wished there was something as simple she could do to affect the nervous knot that was currently twisting and writhing in the pit of her stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

    Therese stared out at the swarm of people from her spot by the bar. There was already a full crowd in the music shop tonight. An eclectic mix of men and women, young and old, filled the makeshift dance floor and spilled out the front entrance onto the street. The three owners of McElroy Music were all pleasantly surprised by this turnout in what they’d taken to be, erroneously it would seem, a rather sleepy town.

   It was almost nine and Therese shifted nervously in place, tapping her feet to music she was only half listening to. She was trying her best to appear casual and confident standing there on her own. It was New Year’s Eve after all, and her ability to have a good time should’t rest on Carol; but unwittingly, she also found herself fervently searching the crowd for any site of her. And this infuriated Therese. That she couldn’t just not care. As annoyed and confused as she was in her head, the longing inside her held fast that even Carol with Abby, was better than no Carol at all tonight.

   “There you are! We’ve been looking for you!” Dannie and Phil appeared on either side of her. “Well, pretty good, huh?” said Dannie, gesturing out at the revelry transpiring before them.

   “I had no idea so many people would show. And the band is really great, Phil. I don’t know how you got them to do this for us practically for free.”

   Phil gave a bashful shrug, “Eh, it was nothing. I know the drummer, called in a favor.”

   Therese linked her arms with each of theirs. “Well fellas, it looks like we really did it. I think this is actually going to work.”

   “And _I think_ ,” said Dannie, “it’s time for a drink.”

   “Now you’re talking!” cheered Phil, and in a flash, he was thrusting a glass of champagne into her hand.

   The three of them stood in a tight circle amidst the throng of people by the bar. Dannie cleared his throat dramatically, holding his glass high in the air. “A toast to Therese Belivet.”

   Therese blushed as she realized what was happening. “Oh no, guys, come on. Why don’t we toast to—.”

   But Dannie cut her off. “Damn it, shut up and let me toast you, Therese!” he huffed, and she resolved to remain quiet at the site of his earnest expression. “To Therese Belivet,” he started again. “Our sister from another mister. The best friend we could ask for. And the girl responsible for these two small-town boys standing here today, in our very own shop. So thanks for taking a chance on us, T, and making this dream a reality. We couldn’t have done it without you!”

   “Here, here!” answered Phil.

   Not knowing what she could possibly say to that, Therese just held firmly to her glass as they both clinked against it with their own, and then tossed back the champagne, draining it in one.  

   “To Therese Belivet,” chorused a voice from just outside their circle.

   All three immediately looked for the speaker, and as Phil and Dannie turned and parted, the vision that was Carol came into view through the space between them. Carol was was dressed all in black- fitted black pants, and heeled leather boots, a black blazer over a gauzy top, underneath which a black bra was discernible. Several golden pendants glittered from her chest, dripping down to her breast. She might’ve just stepped out of some sort of Bond-esque of spy thriller; the look was cool, and dangerous, and incredibly hot. Carol stared directly at Therese, with one hand casually tucked in her pants pocket, the other holding a glass of champagne aloft to toast to her. She took a sip without breaking eye contact, and Therese, realizing her lower jaw was hanging open, quickly snapped it shut. Carol smiled, “Well… aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?”

    Dannie and Phil both leapt forward, offering their hands and introducing themselves over one another while Therese hung back, still slightly dumbstruck.

    Carol took each hand in turn. “Carol. It’s nice to meet you both, Therese spoke very highly of you.”

    Dannie turned his head back to look at Therese. His eyes were wide as he mouthed, _Damn._

    “Well, it's nice to finally meet the famous Carol!” Phil exclaimed. “Therese has said very nice things about you too.”

   “Has she now?”

   Phil gave Therese a roguish grin and she rushed forward before he could speak, not because she thought he would ever purposely embarrass her, but she didn’t trust the unknown quantities of champagne he had already consumed. “Um... weren't you guys just about to, uh, go check the sound system... or something?” She tried to catch either of their gaze, silently pleading with her eyes.

    “No,” said Phil, furrowing his brow in confusion and completely oblivious to her efforts. “Why would we need to check the— ow!” Dannie had stepped on his toe. He looked at his brother and the unspoken message passed between them. “Oh yes, er, the sound system! Got to check that. Make sure it's… um, sounding properly. Let's go Dann-o!”  

   After they had disappeared back into the crowd, Therese turned to Carol sheepishly, “Well that’s Dannie and Phil.”

   “They seem like lovely young men. I can see why you like them.”

   Therese nodded and moved in a little closer, but still leaving a sizable space between them. “So… you made it. I’m glad.”

   “Oh. I’m glad to hear you say that. I, well I wasn’t sure, the way you sounded on the phone earlier, if- if everything was okay with us. Abby told me I was being silly. Called me a nitwit actually.”

   At the mention of Abby’s name, Therese suddenly remembered why she had been so ruffled all day. “Where is Abby? I thought she was coming with you.” she asked, sure that she hadn’t quite been successful in keeping a bitter note out of her voice.

   Carol studied her for a beat, narrowing her eyes slightly, before looking out onto the dance floor. “Ahhm, let’s see… oh there she is.” Carol pointed out into the middle of the floor. “See over there, dancing with the redhead? That’s her girlfriend Molly.”

    _Abby has a girlfriend. She came… with her girlfriend._

“They’ve been together for uhhh, almost two years now I think.”

   Therese watched the pair of women who were by far the most exuberant dancers on the floor. Abby put her hands low on the other’s hips and the redhead leaned in and kissed her. _Oh my god. I’m so stupid. Did I really fuck this up already?_

   “When I told them there was going to be dancing they were very excited, as you can tell— Therese, what’s the matter?”

   Therese stood with a hand over her eyes, her face screwed up with the unpleasant mixture of shame and relief and fear she was feeling. “Carol, I messed up.”

   Carol shook her head slightly, seemingly nonplussed. “What? What do you mean?”

   Therese took a deep breath and forced herself to look up into Carol’s eyes. “You weren’t wrong about the phone call earlier. _I’m_ the one who’s been a huge nitwit. When you said Abby was coming too, I just thought, I don’t know, you and her… .”  

   Carol stepped forward, shortening the gap between them. Her eyes were shining. “Oh, Therese— .”

   “I was just confused. Because I really like you, Carol, and I suppose I got a bit… crazy, jumping to conclusions. But I’m not crazy! I promise. Well not usually, anyway. I’m actually very normal. I mean, this isn’t a great example. Especially for our first date. And did I mention that I really like you…” Therese could sense herself starting to ramble, but she couldn’t seem make it stop; and strangely, a smile had begun to slowly creep onto Carol’s face. “…and, and I just need you to tell me I haven’t wrecked this already because that would be— why are you laughing?!”

    For Carol was truly beaming back at her now and giggling too. She was prevented from responding however as something small whooshed between them, slamming into Therese’s legs and nearly knocking her over.

   “Theeerrreesseee!! Happy New Year's Eve!!” Rindy had appeared as if from nowhere and was squeezing her legs in a tight hug.

    “Rindy, good lord sweat pea, go easy on her.” chided Carol.

    “Therese, come dance with me, pleeeaaassseeee!” Rindy looked up at Therese with her lip pushed out in a theatrical pout and big puppy-dog eyes that were precisely the same shade of blue as Carol's. “Please, please, please!” she chanted, tugging on Therese’s dress.

    “I- well- your mom and I- ,” Therese faltered. So many things seemed to be happening all at once. She looked helplessly to Carol.

   Carol just shrugged, offering, “Rindy has been talking about it all day.”  

   Therese sighed and ceased the resistance against Rindy’s efforts, smiling down at her. “All right, I suppose I can't say no to you, little lady.”

    Rindy was already pulling her along by the hand, chattering away at a rapid pace. “Do you like my dress, Therese? I wanted the white one but my mom told me no cause I always spill things on me. But this one is almost as pretty… .”

   Before they’d gone far, Carol caught Therese by the other wrist and leaned in very close until her lips practically touched Therese's ear. She could feel Carol's warm breathe against her skin. “Therese, you haven’t wrecked anything. So you better save a dance for me next, okay? A slow one.” She stepped back and let go of Therese's wrist. Therese allowed herself to be led away by Rindy, but without taking her eyes from Carol, and grinning unabashedly.

 

* * *

 

 

   Four or five songs later, Therese was already winded, Rindy having put her through her paces with much twirling and bouncing and impassioned movements that Therese could only assume the little girl had picked up from Abby and her girlfriend.

   “Hold up, Rindy,” she panted. “I need a breather. Let’s find your mom, okay?”

   Rindy nodded excitedly. “Okay! Wait til you see her dance moves!” and she tore off into the crowd.

   “Wait! …for me.” But Rindy had already scampered away between the legs of several surprised party-goers, and disappeared.

   Therese couldn’t run. In fact, she could hardly feel her feet at all, and seemed to have gone numb from the ankle down. She was remembering why she had so rarely worn these shoes. “Rindy!” she called, pressing through the mass of people dancing. But she couldn’t seem to shout very loudly either in her breathlessness.

 _Find Rindy, and then find a place to sit_ she thought. _I really need to sit down. Jesus I’m out of shape. And why is it so god damn hot in here?_ Her face and chest felt uncomfortably warm now, and Therese wiped a film of sweat from her forehead. She tripped through a few more clusters of people before finding herself at the wall. She looked to her right and was relieved to see Carol was there, walking towards her with two glasses of champagne in hand, and Rindy at her side, hopping up and down. _Thank god. Now I can just rest a minute._

   Therese braced herself against the wall with one arm, feeling as though invisible fog had descended around her. The room started to swim, and the air was thick and heavy and unbreathable. The music faded, like someone had wound a muffler tightly around her head and ears. _Fuck. Not good._

   Carol was almost to her now and Therese saw through a blur her smile transfigure into a look of alarm.

   “Therese?”

   “Carol, I’m… going to…”  

   Then the earth tipped sideways, and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Write a nice one where nothing goes wrong and they can finally have their moment!  
> Also Me: Chapter 9... 
> 
> Thanks as always for all the support!


	10. One Thousand Wind Chimes

   Therese was vaguely aware she was moving. _Floating?_ She couldn't tell if her legs were on the ground, or even where the ground was. Up and down no longer seemed to exist as constants. She managed to open her heavy lids a fraction. Through her lashes, stars swirled and churned dizzyingly in a midnight blue pool. She shut them again and willed the world to stand still.

   She awoke next to the sensation of something cool and wet on her forehead. This time Therese opened her eyes to find Carol standing over her, looking very serious as she pressed a damp a cloth along Therese’s brow. They locked eyes and Carol’s expression softened.

   “Hey, you,” she said.

   “Hey,” Therese echoed in a whisper.  

   Carol sat down at Therese's hip, and Therese felt the surface that was supporting her dip with the added weight. Sensing the softness underneath her and noticing the dark blue upholstery for the first time, she realized she must be lying on some sort of sofa. “Where are we?” she croaked.

   “My living room. You fainted at the party. Dannie and Phil carried you up.”

   Therese’s brain felt fuzzy and sluggish as she worked to fit these pieces together with what she remembered. _Fainted… had to be carried… in Carol’s living room._ She moved her elbows back and tried to push herself up on them, but as she raised her upper body, Carol put a hand to her chest, firmly pushing her back down and holding her there.

   “Oh no you don’t,” she said. “You just stay right there and rest for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

   The authority behind this command surprised Therese and she yielded instinctively, sinking back into the cushions. Carol got up and walked out of view, and though Therese wanted to see where she had gone, she felt too overcome now to try and sit up again; as though even in her absence, Carol’s steady hand was still there at her chest.

   Carol was back fairly quickly anyway, now carrying a glass of water which she set on the coffee table before sitting back down at Therese’s side. “How do you feel?” she asked, resuming her work with the cold compress.

   Therese considered this for a moment before answering with, “Pretty fine I guess.” This was only partly true however. Her heart did seem to be beating at a much faster rate than normal, and there was a strange, reeling sensation which still lingered about her. But fainting aside, Therese was fairly certain that these things had almost just as much to do with the matter of waking up to Carol taking care of her, and the immediacy of Carol to her now; the way their hips pressed against each other, the softness of Carol’s hand against her brow, and the way Carol’s long necklace hung down and lightly brushed along Therese’s abdomen as Carol leaned over her. Therese could’ve easily reached up and pulled Carol right down on top of her.

   “Good,” Carol nodded. “But I still plan to keep an eye on you. I hope you don’t mind I sent your friends back down to the party though.”

   Therese shook her head.

   “And I left Rindy with Abby and Molly for now. I figured you didn’t need a bunch of people crowding around you at the moment.”

   “Thanks. I feel bad you're missing the party though. It’s New Years. You really don’t have to do all this.”  

   Carol’s hand stilled, and she looked down at Therese with one eyebrow cocked. “Hey now, I do believe you asked me on a date tonight. That doesn’t get to end early just because you decide to up and pass out on me. You won’t get rid of me quite that easily, Therese.”

   “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be sure and do something a little more drastic next time.”

   Carol laughed. “All right, you can sit up now,” she said, tossing the cloth aside onto the coffee table. Therese slowly scooted up and situated herself against the sofa’s armrest, and Carol handed her the glass of water. “Here, drink that.”

   Therese took the glass and sipped. The water was cold and refreshing and she realized just how thirsty she had been. She could’ve gulped it down in one, but she rested the glass in her lap in an effort to pace herself, and it was only then she noticed the folds of her skirt were damp. “Why am I all wet?” she asked, and a horrible, mortifying thought occurred to her. “Oh my god… I didn’t like—.”

   “What? Oh god, no. That was me I’m afraid.” Carol grimaced. “When you fell, I went to catch you and I sort of spilled the two glasses of champagne I was holding all over you in the process. Sorry.”

   Therese exhaled a sigh of relief. Blacking out she might be able to get over. But peeing her pants in front of Carol on their first date would've just been too vastly humiliating. “Well don’t apologize. Thanks for catching me.”

   “Anytime.” Carol winked, and Therese felt the internal somersaulting sensation that had become so familiar to her whenever she was around Carol. “I guess I should get you out of that dress,” Carol added, and then her eyes went wide. “Uh, I- I mean and into something dry.” She blushed and Therese giggled. “I’ll just… go find something for you. Then we can set that dress to soak.” Carol got up and started towards a door that Therese guessed must lead to her bedroom, calling back, “And drink that water!” as she walked away.

   “Bossy,” Therese murmured, just loud enough that she knew Carol would hear.

   Carol returned in a few minutes and told Therese there was a fresh change of clothes waiting for her on the bed, and helped Therese, a little shakily, to her feet.

   Therese entered Carol’s room with an acute curiosity. A bedroom, she often felt, could act as a kind of intimate portrait of a person; and in regarding the space before her, Therese was immediately struck by the fact that this bedroom was so undeniably… Carol. Classic and elegant, and yet somehow equally fresh, warm, and inviting. It was tidy, while still looking lived in. The walls were a pretty pale blue, and peppered with an artfully arranged array of pictures and shelves laden with dozens of books and and various knick-knacks. The window was trimmed with airy, gossamer curtains and a parade of small succulent plants that lined the wide sill, each one nestled its own unique little pot. Therese smiled, imagining Carol carefully selecting, potting, and positioning each one in the window.

   Twin nightstands flanked the bed, and Therese was drawn towards the only one of the two that looked in use, the one that must be Carol's. She sat down on Carol’s side of the bed and surveyed the items on its surface. Rindy beamed and waved out from a photo of her and Carol at the beach, set in a handsome frame. The small girl, looking a year or two younger here, was wrapped in Carol’s arms, and the Carol in the photo gazed down at her daughter with nothing less than pure adoration visible in her expression. It was a nice picture, Therese thought. _She looks happy._

   A pair of dark, thick-rimmed glasses, _Carol wears glasses,_ was sitting there too, the frames unfolded as if Carol had just taken them off and laid them there _._ Therese resisted the urge to pick them up and try them on, but she did nudge them over a little in order to read the title of the book that they were resting on. In seeing it however, she automatically pushed the glasses aside and wildly snatched up the book. It was a battered, library copy of _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn_. Therese opened the front cover and pulled out the date card. The most recent stamp showed December 29th, meaning Carol had checked it out the day after their lunch at The Mystic. A wonderful picture formed in her head of Carol sitting up in bed late at night, bathed in warm yellow lamp-light, perhaps in pajamas, perhaps with a glass of wine; but wearing those glasses, and reading this book for no other reason than because Therese had said it was her favorite.  

   “Everything all right in there?” came Carol’s voice from the other side of the door.

   Therese startled and dropped the card. “Yeah, er, fine. Thanks.” she called back, grabbing up the little paper and scrambling to put everything back on the nightstand the way she’d found it. “Be out in just a minute!” She scurried over to the end of the bed where Carol had left her a pair of blue pajama pants with pink and white polka dots, and a sweatshirt. Therese supposed this was an indication they would not be rejoining the party downstairs. She did feel slightly guilty about leaving Dannie and Phil to hold down the fort on their own, but as she slipped out of her dress and into clothes that smelled intoxicatingly of Carol, Therese couldn’t have honestly said that she at all minded this new turn of events.

   After leaving her dress to soak in Carol’s bathtub, Therese came out of the bedroom to a sizzling, popping noise, and a tantalizing aroma wafted under her nose. Across the room and through the kitchen pass-through she spied Carol hunched over a cutting board. “What are you doing?” she asked as she made her way over to her.

   “Making you something to eat. I figured you must be hungry, and you should really eat something anyway after what happened.”

   “Oh I’m all right. You really don’t have to go to all the troub—.” But Therese’s stomach took the opportunity to interrupt her protests with a loud, resounding whine, like an ancient, dormant monster stirred into consciousness by the scent of browning chicken. _Traitor._

   Carol pursed her lips, hiding a smile. “I thought so,” she said with a satisfied nod. Then she gestured to one of the seats along the kitchen island. “Sit.”

   Therese slid into a seat relentingly, and watched quietly for a moment. Carol worked with an effortless fluidity, making quick work of the veggies on the cutting board with smooth, expert knife skills. Was there anything this woman couldn’t do perfectly, Therese wondered.

   “Thanks for the pj’s,” she finally said in order to break the silence.

   Carol didn’t look at her as she filled a glass measuring cup with water and brought it up to her eye to check the level with the scale marks. “You’re welcome. I do hope your dress comes out all right.”

   Therese shrugged. “I’m not worried about it.” She would have given all the dresses in her closet to be here right now. “Although, I must say I feel a little underdressed now next to you in that outfit. I don’t remember if I said before, but you look… amazing.”

   Carol dumped the water into a waiting pot on the stove and popped the lid on with a clank, before turning to Therese with a coquettish smirk. “Thank you. I was really just trying to impress this girl I know. But to be honest, I wouldn’t mind slipping into something a little more comfortable either. Watch the stove for a minute, will you?” Carol came around the island and gave Therese a little squeeze on the shoulder, then gently grazed her fingers along Therese’s back from shoulder to shoulder as she walked past. Therese inhaled sharply at Carol’s touch, and a shiver ran down from the nape of her neck to the bottom of her spine.

   Nine days. How was it possible to only know someone for nine days and already feel so intensely for them? Therese had of course seen movies and read plenty of novels where characters fell for someone so quickly, but she had always regarded these narratives with a rather scornful distaste. That didn’t happen in real life. And even if it did, surely any rational person would never open themselves up to such vulnerability so quickly, with no guarantees.

   And yet, here she was in the home of a woman she had known for little more than a week. She had no idea what was going to happen, or where this was going. No guarantee that it would even go anywhere. But Therese knew she was willing to give herself over entirely for even just the merest chance that it would. She watched the flames flicker and dance under the pots and pans on the gas burning stove. That was what she felt. Like a flame had been lit inside her. A flame she had never known existed, and one only Carol had ever been able to ignite.

   Her eyes wandered lazily around the kitchen. It had the same homey, lived-in feel of Carol’s bedroom. Rindy’s drawings and watercolor paintings flooded the face of the refrigerator. A line of well-used looking cookbooks fringed a portion of the back counter. A big, red cookie jar sat with its lid slightly askew, as if Rindy had been caught midway through sneaking her little hands into it. The toaster was red too. And the stand mixer. And the pots and pans Carol was cooking with. Therese smiled to herself as she suddenly connected a whole litter of red appliances and utensils that were sprinkled throughout the kitchen. Carol’s car was red too, she remembered, and the front door. All the same vibrant red as her usual shade of nail polish and lipstick.

   Carol came back into the kitchen at that moment, now wearing a red, _of course_ , plaid pajama set. “Ah yes, this is much better,” she chimed. “And now we’re evenly dressed.”

   Therese watched as she went to the stove and checked the pans, pushing and stirring whatever was in them, and her stomach rumbled again in anticipation. “Carol, what’s the story behind all the red?” she ventured.

   “Oh, that.” Carol started fiddling with a dish towel, repeatedly folding, unfolding, and refolding it on the countertop. “It’s kind of silly I suppose. It started back in high school. I was going to my first prom, and I really wanted this red dress I’d seen more than anything. I still remember it. It had this intricate detailing on the straps and all down the bodice… anyway I just thought it was the end all. But my mother said red was a trashy and unbecoming color. So I couldn’t get the dress. But after that I started sneaking red in places just to spite her. Red notebooks and a red book bag. Red nails and lipstick. I even painted my whole room red one weekend when my parents were away. It went on from there even after I’d left home. Harge used to make fun of me for it and then I suppose I kept it up then just to spite him too. It just sort of became my color.”

   Therese liked this idea of a young rebellious Carol, and she could certainly understand discord between mothers and daughters. “Well, I think it suits you,” she decided.

   “I’m glad you think so,” Carol laughed. “I’m afraid it may be too late to go back now. And I think this is ready,” she added, inclining her head towards the stove. “Shall we take it out to the porch? We can listen to the music downstairs from there.”

   “Sounds perfect.”

   Outside on the porch swing, Therese devoured the steaming bowl of chicken, rice, and vegetables Carol had given her, only pausing when she became aware of the grating, clattering noise she was creating as her fork scraped along bottom of the bowl, hunting for the last few grains of rice. She bit her bottom lip and self-consciously peered over at Carol who was already eyeing her with an amused look on her face. “Okay, I _was_ really hungry.” she conceded to her. “Starving actually.”

   Carol raised her brows, her eyes glinting. “I didn’t say anything.”

   Therese set her bowl down on the ground and out of the way. “Well, I guess needless to say, that was delicious. Thank you.”  She pulled her bare feet up on to the bench and pressed her palms down along the tops of them, wincing slightly at the still aching feeling in them.

   “What’s the matter?” Carol asked.

   “Hmm?” Therese hadn’t realized Carol was still watching her. “It’s nothing, I just definitely wore the wrong shoes tonight is all.”

   “Here let me.” Carol set her own bowl on the ground and gestured towards Therese’s feet.

   “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

   “What, are you one of those people who doesn’t like their feet touched?”

   Therese shook her head. “No, it’s just you don’t have t—.”

   “Therese. You’ve got to stop telling me what I don’t have to do for you. I want to. Let me.”

   Therese swallowed her protests and this time shyly extended her legs as Carol reached over, allowing Carol to pull them onto her lap. Carol started kneading her thumbs into the soles and Therese let out a low, involuntary mewl of pleasure. Carol’s lips flickered with the hint of a grin. “See, not so bad. You don’t much like letting people take care of you, do you?”

   “I suppose I’m just not very used to it.” And this was the honest truth of the matter. Therese had spent the great majority of her life fending for herself. She’d always been kept generally healthy and well fed at the home, but with so many children to take care of, especially all the little ones, individual attention had been limited. If you'd felt ill, it was a Tylenol and to bed early with you. If you’d fallen and scraped yourself, it was chin up, brush it off, and a band aid. There was no one ever to sit by your bedside and watch over you, or thoroughly tend to the places that hurt. Dannie and Phil looked out for her like protective older brothers, but they too were similarly independent and just trying to make in the world themselves, and so the three of them never relied on each other in this way. Therese tried to relax. This was part of it she realized, part of giving yourself over entirely; allowing someone to take care of you sometimes.

   The street below them was alive tonight, and up on the balcony Therese felt like a theater-goer in the prime box seats as they observed the evening unfold before them. The avenue was the stage, and the band the orchestra, setting the tone of the production with a lively score, and the many party-goers and New Year’s revelers were the players in this evening’s performance. They darted about the street, and in and out of the shop beneath. The babbling of their many voices and their ebullient laughter rose up to Carol and Therese as an indistinguishable hum, but you didn’t need to hear the individual pieces of dialogue to understand the meaning of the story.

   They watched for a long while, slipping into a contented silence which was only broken to make the occasional comment about a song that was playing, or a particularly notable character in the street. Therese liked this; liked that they both didn’t seem to be the need to talk every second or force conversation. They could just _be_.

   The sound of footsteps coming along the side of the wrap-around porch made Carol and Therese turn their heads in unison just as Abby and her girlfriend appeared from around the corner. Therese swung her legs off Carol’s lap and sat up straight.

   Abby was carrying a sleeping Rindy in her arms. “I’ve got a delivery for a Miss Aird,” she called.

   “Aww, my darling girl,” crooned Carol, standing and reaching out her arms to take her daughter.

   “Well she wanted to make it to midnight, but I think it was just one too many glasses of champagne in the end. You’ve really got to teach her to pace herself, Carol.”

   Carol chortled, “I’ll remember that. Thanks for watching her Abby.”

   Rindy’s eyes fluttered slightly as she went from one woman’s arms to the other, but she just wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, nuzzled into Carol’s shoulder and seemed to be back asleep instantly. Carol looked to Therese. “I’m just going to go put her down, don’t go anywhere all right?” and she took Rindy off into the house.

   Now alone with Abby and Molly, Therese tried to think of something to say, but Abby beat her to it. “So, I see we missed the pajama party!” she hooted.

   “Oh uh, yeah, Carol gave me, I mean, just because my dress, it was all wet.” Therese stumbled over the explanation.

   “Right,” and Abby gave her a conspiratorial wink.

   Therese blushed. “No really, I just— .”

   But the redhead stepped forward and interjected, “Pay no attention to Abigail here. Her mind’s never not in the gutter, and anyway I saw Carol spill champagne all over you when you dropped. How are you doing by the way?”

   “Fine now, thanks. Just more embarrassed than anything I guess.”

   “Don’t worry about it, I don’t think anyone will remember. You’ve thrown a really great party down there. I’m Molly by the way.” She extended her hand and Therese took it and introduced herself with a genuine grin, instinctively feeling that she already liked this woman.

   “Well, you guys have a good night and wish Carol a happy New Year for us,” said Abby, snaking an arm around Molly’s waist. “We’re going to go take a moonlight walk along the water to finish off this year.”

   “Nice to meet you Therese, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you,” Molly beamed. “Happy New Year.”

   Therese waved them goodbye and watched as they walked off arm in arm. They really were a very cute couple. But Abby’s words about finishing off the year had reminded her for the first time that midnight must be drawing very near, and she was suddenly filled with a new nervous anticipation for what might come, what she hoped would come, at that moment.

   “Did they leave already?” Carol was back now with a blanket over her arm.

   “Off to walk on the beach,” Therese confirmed.

   “Good.”

   Therese raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

   “Good because we’re alone again.” Carol explained, and she sat down on the swing and spread the blanket over them. A soft breeze wandered across them and rustled the wind chimes Carol and Rindy had made, bringing them to life. _Magical_.

   Therese looked over at Carol, studying her wordlessly. _I must still be asleep_ , she thought. _I fainted at the party and I still haven’t woken up._ That was the only possible explanation for this stroke of luck, to be here, now, with Carol.

“What?” said Carol, noticing Therese’s locked gaze.

   “Nothing.” Carol’s hand was lying atop the blanket and Therese took it, lacing their fingers together; and just like in her dream, it fit as if it was her own.

   Carol’s eyes flitted down to their now linked hands and then back up to Therese, and they shone with the glow of the fairy lights in the rafters above them. Carol slowly brushed her thumb back and forth along Therese’s.

   “I was just thinking about the day I met you.” Therese’s voice was practically a whisper. “I stood out on that street, and I looked up here at this swing, and I thought, ‘that looks like a lovely spot to be’.”

   “You did?”

   She nodded. “Mmhmm. But it’s even better than I imagined. Because I didn’t know then that you would be part of this picture.”

   A familiar riff started up from the band downstairs, and Therese closed her eyes to listen. “Mmm, Harvest Moon,” she sighed. "I love this song.” She opened her eyes at a tugging sensation on her hand. Carol was getting up.

   “Well I do believe you still owe me a slow dance Miss Belivet.” she said, pulling Therese off the bench.

   They let the blanket fall to the ground and Carol gathered her in close. Therese laid her head on Carol’s shoulder and they moved together slowly, dreamily. The earth seemed to idle in its spinning, time stretching on and on as they danced and held each other. Therese, for perhaps the first time in her life, didn’t feel out of place. Here in Carol’s arms was exactly where she was supposed to be.

   It must’ve been the last song of the night, because as the final notes faded out a countdown began in a chorus of voices from below.

   “60!… 59!… 58!… 57!…”         

   Therese pulled her head back to look into Carol’s eyes, and the hammering of her heart seemed to match the cadence of the count.

   “54!” thump thump… “53!” thump thump… “52!” thump thump…

   They stared at each other. Breathless. Waiting.

   “48!” thump thump… “47!” thump thump…

   “Oh, fuck this,” Carol muttered. And with that, she cupped her hands to Therese’s jaw and pulled her into a kiss. A kiss that was like none other Therese had ever experienced. One which started slow and soft, and then grew deeper, bringing hands to tangle in each other's hair and to pull one another in closer. A kiss that shot ribbons of fire from her chest and out her fingertips and toes, and stirred a ringing in her head like one thousand sets of wind chimes all around her.

     They broke apart, both breathing deeply, and rested their foreheads against each other. The noise of the crowd suddenly surged back to Therese’s ear as if someone had stuck a pin in the little bubble that had surrounded just the two of them.

   “3!… 2!… 1!” they roared, and then the sound dissolved into a great rumble of tumultuous cheers, and whoops, and hollers.

   Both women started laughing. “Sorry,” Carol giggled, stroking Therese’s cheek with her thumb. “I couldn’t wait.”

   “Well,” Therese breathed, “Now that it’s actually midnight, maybe we should kiss again… you know, for the sake of tradition.” And she pulled Carol to her once more.

   

 

 

* * *

   

[Neil Young - Harvest Moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMjDc8MJotU)   

   

  


    

   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in just a succinct, 32,000 words... 
> 
> Haha, thanks for hangin' on y'all.


	11. Far Beyond The Right Thing

**January 1**

 

   “Mama! Wake up!” 

   Carol opened one eye. Morning light spilled in through the window, flooding the bedroom in a muted, bluish haze. 

   An urgent rapping at the door joined in with Rindy’s calls. “Maaammaaaaaa, come on!” 

   Carol let out a throaty whimper. _Too early. Too soon. Don’t make me leave this bed yet._

   “Mama, are you in there?” There was a click and a squeaking sound as the door knob was turned. 

   This time, Carol sprang to life. She leapt from the bed in a bleary-eyed surge, tossing the covers over next to her, and darted for the door. Her hand hit the face of it, blocking its inward swing before it could manage to open any more than a few inches and she poked her face through the gap. 

   Rindy stood just on the other side gazing up at her, her arms tightly crossed, and her small, round face pinched into a scowl. 

   “Morning snowflake, what’s up?” Carol asked, panting slightly. 

   “You said we could watch the parade and make cinnamon rolls today, but you’re sleeping _forever_!” She stressed the last word in an exasperated whine. 

   Carol blinked rapidly, trying to drive out the sleep that was still heavy in her eyes. “Hmm. I did say that, didn’t I?” 

   Riddy nodded emphatically. “Uh-huh, you did.” 

   “All right, I’m just going to, um, get dressed. Then I’ll be right with you, darling.” 

   “Why? We always wear pajamas for breakfast.” 

_ This little girl, too damn smart for her own good.  _ “Right… well I’m going to… brush my teeth then. Have you brushed already this morning?” 

   Rindy nodded again, though more slowly this time, and her eyes did not quite meet her mother’s. 

   “Rindy.” 

   The nod changed directions into a solemn shake. “No,” she muttered.

   “Mmhmm, thought so. Hop to it, missy.” 

   Rindy bolted off, and Carol stuck her head out the door a little further to watch her scamper down the hall towards the bathroom. “Two minutes!” she shouted after her. “Use the timer!” 

   Now confident Rindy’s attention was otherwise occupied, Carol carefully shut the door and retreated back to the bed. She pulled back the comforter, revealing from beneath it a beautiful young woman wearing Carol’s own pajamas, her dark hair slightly disheveled from being so hurriedly buried by covers. “Good morning, angel,” Carol whispered. 

   “Did she see anything?” Therese asked, beaming.

   “I don’t think so.” Carol reached down and brushed one of the tangled brunette locks from over her eye. “Sorry about that. I just think I should probably have a little talk with her before she finds someone in my bed.” 

   “Carol, it’s fine. I totally understand,” Therese said, pushing herself up in the bed. She reached over and took hold of Carol’s pajamas at the collar, drawing her forward until Carol’s face was just a few inches from her own. “Plus,” she murmured, “being sneaky is kind of fun.” And then she pulled Carol all the way in for a kiss. 

   The night before, Carol had awoken well after midnight with Therese against her, burrowed into her shoulder and breathing softly, the both of them having fallen into a doze on the porch swing while snuggled up together under the blanket. She had gently roused Therese and insisted that she stay and sleep there til morning, pleased at the readiness with which Therese agreed. Under the cover of the darkened house they had crept into Carol’s bedroom and easily fallen into a warm, wonderfully contented sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. Now as Therese kissed her in the dawn, Carol wanted nothing more than to take her into her arms again, pull the covers back over them, and return to that sense of rapture. 

Instead, she reluctantly pulled away from her, inching further backward on the mattress as she did so as not to be so easily coaxed back to Therese’s lips. “I’m glad you think so,” she said, “because we’ve got to sneak you out right now while Rindy is brushing her teeth.” 

   “When do I get to see you again?” 

   The urgency in Therese’s voice as she asked this made Carol’s heart do a little skip. “Is tomorrow too soon?” 

   Therese grinned. “Definitely not. I don’t think I could wait any longer than that.” 

   “Good. Me neither. Actually I would say even sooner, but I’ve got a little business I’ve need to take care of today.” 

   Carol kept a close eye on the hall as she and Therese tiptoed their way through the living room and to the front door. Carol opened it for her, but Therese lingered on the threshold, holding Carol’s gaze and looking as if she still wanted to say something. Rindy would coming be back any second, so all Carol could do was whisper, “I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon,” and give Therese one last swift kiss.         

   She watched Therese through a gap in the curtains, walk down the porch and out sight, before turning to lean against the door. She had the feeling of being lighter than air, and she clutched tightly to the door knob to anchor herself lest she float away. She squeezed her eyes shut.

   “Why are you smiling like that?” 

   Her eyes popped open to find Rindy before her now, and Carol realized that just as her daughter had said, she was in fact grinning enormously. She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to suppress it, but it was a stubborn smile, one that grew from within, and one that could not be driven away so easily. “I’m smiling because… because it’s a new year. And because I’ve got a really good feeling about this one. Now what are _you_ smiling about?” 

   Rindy scrunched up her forehead. “I’m not smiling,” she said defensively. 

   “Oh? You know, you’re right. Maybe we better fix that!” Carol ran forward and scooped up the little girl in her arms, spinning her around in circles and plastering loud kisses all over her face and belly until Rindy was reduced to giggles.

   A short while later, the air in the kitchen had grown saturated with the heavy, sweet scent of cinnamon sugar radiating from the oven. Carol leaned against the counter and looked on as Rindy played with the bowl of icing, lifting the wooden spoon high above it and letting scoopfuls of the mixture slowly drizzle back into the bowl in frost white ribbons. “That’s great, snowflake. Keep stirring while Mama goes and makes a phone call, okay?”

   Rindy nodded and Carol hastened over into the living room where she could watch Rindy through the pass-through, but where she wouldn’t be overheard. 

   Abby's voice was hoarse and irritated when she picked up the phone. “Holy hell… do you know what time it is? Fuck. We only went to sleep a couple hours ago.” 

   “Good morning to you too, starshine.” 

   Carol could hear a second woman’s grumbling voice in the background and added, “And tell Molly I’m sorry for waking her up.” 

   “Oh, but you’re not sorry for waking _me_ up at this heinous hour?” Abby huffed. 

   “Well, I figured you’d want to hear what I have to tell you. And also, I have a favor to ask you.” 

   “This better be really good. Tell me you’ve got a broken leg at the very least.” 

   “Ha. Ha,” Carol said flatly. “All limbs intact, sorry to disappoint. No, it’s just… Therese stayed over last night.” 

   “Wait, what?! You slept together?” Abby yelped, sounding suddenly more energized. 

   Carol had become distracted by Rindy, who clearly did not realize she was still being watched. She lifted the icing spoon again, this time tilting her head back and sticking out her tongue to let it drip down directly into her open mouth. 

   “I saw that!” Carol called out to her, which caused the little girl to start and leap back from the bowl guiltily. 

   “Huh? You saw what?” Abby snapped in her ear. 

   “No, not you. Sorry, Rindy and I are making breakfast. I promised her we’d watch the Rose Parade and make— .”

   “Carol, focus! You and Therese?” 

   “Right. Uh, no. I mean we didn’t sleep together. Not like that at least.” And Carol launched into an explanation of everything that happened the previous night after Abby and Molly had dropped off Rindy.

   “Wow, pj's and cuddling. Real saucy stuff,” was Abby’s reply when she had finally finished the story. 

   “And we kissed! Shut up. It was nice.” 

   “Sorry, sorry. I’m totally happy for you Carol, I am. But it’s 8am and I am very tired and very hungover, or potentially still a little drunk, so forgive me but where’s the fire exactly?”    

   “Okay, so it’s just that I was thinking a lot about it last night… I really like her Abby. I _really_ like her. And I don’t want there to be anything left in the way that could screw this up. So I need you to watch Rindy, because I’ve got to finally do this. Today.”

 

* * *

  
   Carol started to feel a small, nervous knot swelling in her stomach as she turned into the long, familiar driveway. It was not only the prospect of a confrontation with Harge, but it was furthermore oddly unsettling returning to the house that had once been her home- their home. It had been months since Carol had been back here, and as she pulled into the final roundabout at the house’s entrance, a peculiar sense of deja vu had started creeping its way down her spine.

   In many ways it was all exactly the same as she remembered; as if it had existed purely suspended in time since that day she had packed her bags. Now it loomed over her like a great ghost, an ugly echo of her past.  

   And yet, when she got out of the car and actually approached the house, Carol did notice here and there were small signs of change. 

   Like the flower beds she had once so painstakingly curated each season. They had all been filled in now with a line of tired and uninteresting shrubberies. _Just as well_ , she thought. Her efforts to soften the grand facade of the house with great quantities of bulbs and blooms had always seemed to persist in vain anyhow. The huge dwelling was pretentious by design, and nothing she’d ever done to it had truly been able to crack that austerity and make the place feel homey. Though perhaps, Carol conceded now, this had always been an impossible endeavor. One could do whatever they pleased to the surface, but could a house ever truly feel like a home when all you ever wanted to do was leave it? 

   The garage too looked exactly the same at first glance, but Carol of course knew that this was impossible. It had been practically reduced to rubble the last time she had seen it, and the image of its destroyed form was forever seared into her memory. One whole side of it torn away, the roof collapsing in on itself, and its massive wooden door cleaved in two. But now Carol could spot the subtle evidence of its rebuilding. The painted trim that was slightly off, a touch more vibrant than the rest of the house whose trim had faded somewhat with time; the subtle but visible line in the stonework where old met new; and the light fixtures which were similar, but didn’t quite match the sconces on the house. 

   Carol started to feel sick looking at it, and she turned away, suppressing a shudder. She focused instead on the front door, squaring off her shoulders as Abby’s chants of encouragement from that morning tumbled around in her mind. “You’re just going to put your foot down, Carol. No more waiting. You get what you deserve from that motherfucker!”  

   It took two rings of the bell before Carol could hear muffled noises on the other side of the door. She wondered if it was Florence coming. Did Harge even still employ her? She didn’t know. The older woman had always been curiously devoted to Harge. Surely she wouldn’t have left of her own accord, even if it was just him here. 

   But it wasn’t the graying and waspish old housekeeper who answered. Instead a younger woman appeared, much closer to Carol’s own age. She only opened the door a few inches and peered around the edge so all but her head was hidden from view. Her long, dark hair fell across her face, obscuring one of her thick-lashed, almond eyes, but this did not entirely hide the irked expression on her face.    

   Carol, who had not been expecting this, found that the words she had been preparing in her head for Florence were lost to her, carried away with the cool, January breeze. 

   “Yeah?” the woman grunted at her after several seconds of silence. 

   “Uh yes, I’m… looking for Harge,” Carol stammered. 

   With little subtlety, the woman’s head moved down then up again as she looked Carol over. “He’s busy right now. Is there a message I can give him?” 

_ Yes, how about, ‘you’re a dick and give me my fucking divorce’.  _ “Thanks, but I’ll just speak with him myself. If you could just tell him it’s Carol. He’ll see me.” Carol took a step closer to the door. 

   The young woman narrowed her eyes and held firmly to the door, indicating she wasn’t about to open it any further to let Carol in. “Like I said, he’s busy.” 

   Queer as it was being back at the old house, it was even more bizarre to be so hostilely denied entry into it by a total stranger, and Carol was taken aback at the brusque dismissal. “I’m sorry, I think we’re misunderstanding each other here. Who are you?” She tried for a warm smile which the other woman did not return, instead continuing to regard Carol with a suspicious glare. 

   “I’m Cynthia. Harge’s girlfriend.” 

   It took several moments for Cynthia’s words to sink in as Carol’s mind began to swim. _Girlfriend. Girlfriend? He has a fucking girlfriend?_

Whatever Harge had said over the past months about not being able to let Carol go, she had never actually believed he had been staying faithful to her in their separation. He had never even been faithful in their marriage. But ‘girlfriend' seemed to imply something more than his usual fling, and definitely something very far from what he’d been telling her. What the hell was he doing with this woman, bringing her into their old home, while he was still coming round and claiming he wanted to be a “family” again? 

   Carol actually snorted and started to laugh; her combined ire and total bewilderment at this latest discovery apparently otherwise unsure of how to manifest themselves. The whole scenario was completely insane. 

   Cynthia’s lips had drawn back over her teeth in look of near disgust at this mad display. “Listen lady, it’s a holiday. I’m not sure what you need, but we’re busy.” 

   She started to close the door but Carol caught it with the toe of her shoe, and slammed her hand down against it. She had stopped laughing. “All right _Cynthia_ , you’re Harge’s girlfriend… I’m Harge’s _wife_. And I will speak to my _husband_ now, thank you.”  

   Cynthia wavered, and in the instant that Carol felt the pressure against the door slacken, she took the opportunity to push her way in over the threshold. 

   It was now clear why Cynthia had been hiding behind the door. She wore only a large, wrinkled men’s dress shirt, one of Harge’s surely, and no bottoms. “What the hell?” she growled. “You mean EX-wife? He said he was divorced. This isn’t your house anymore. You can’t just—. ” 

   Carol barked out a loud, mirthless laugh that cut across her. “He said we were _divorced_? DIVORCED?” It was too much. Her voice unwittingly began to rise, and it echoed sharply around the stark, marble foyer. “I assure you my dear, I would like nothing more than to be divorced from that man! I only came here today because I want to be divorced so damn badly! But no, we’re still very much married. Now where the fuck is he?” 

   Perhaps unconsciously, Cynthia’s eyes darted to the staircase, and Carol took this as confirmation. She spun on her heels and marched off in the that direction. 

   “H-hey! You, you can’t just go up there!” Cynthia spluttered after her. 

   Carol ignored this and started climbing, taking two steps at a time. She moved without seeing, her feet carrying her instinctively down the familiar halls, until she found herself first at Harge’s study. She threw open the heavy, wooden doors without knocking, but was only greeted by an empty room. 

   Harge’s desk was a mess of paperwork and folders which cluttered the surface in untidy stacks. A bottle and crystal tumbler were set right in front of the leather desk chair, ready and waiting for the desk’s occupant, and Carol moved forward to examine them. The bottle was Harge’s favorite aged scotch, and she could see from a film of liquid in the bottom of the glass he had been drinking it not long ago. More lies. _One month sober my ass._

   Without thinking and her head pounding, Carol reached down and swept the pile of papers off the desk in one angry swoop. They fluttered to the ground all around her, and something else heavier, that must’ve been lodged between the stacks, plunked down at her feet. She bent to look and saw it was the little red sobriety chip Harge had waved in front of her face on Christmas Day. Carol took it in her hand and closed her fingers around it, her fist clenched so tightly she could feel the edges of the coin biting into her skin; but she did not care as she left the study and stormed down the hall towards the master bedroom.  

   Harge’s grating snores reached her ears even before Carol got there. She found the doors ajar, and the room behind them still cast in darkness despite the hour of the day. When she entered she could just make out a large shape on the bed through the inky shadows. As her eyes began adjusting to the gloom, Harge came into focus, splayed out on his stomach, a sheet just covering the middle of his otherwise naked form. 

   A glass of something was set on the nightstand next to him, and with difficulty, she swallowed the urge to wake him by upending it over his head. Instead, she crossed to the windows where the thick blackout curtains had been drawn and yanked them wide, crying out, “Good morning, darling!” in a high, falsely sweet voice. 

   A blast of bright, afternoon light blazed in through the window, shattering the blackness in the room, and landed on Harge’s face. He grunted and puffed, startled awake, and threw a hand over his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Cynthia. What the fuck?” he groaned angrily. 

   “I’m afraid it’s not Cynthia,” Carol said, stepping out from in front of the window so she wouldn’t be cast in silhouette. 

   Harge peered at her from between his fingers and then jumped up so violently he smacked his head against the headboard. “Shit— oouuff! Damn it! C-Carol. How did you get- I mean how… what the hell are you doing here?” 

   “It’s time we had a little _chat_ about the state of things, Harge. And put some clothes on or something.” The sheet had fallen from around his waist when he had sat up and Carol grabbed a discarded pair of pants on the floor and threw them at him, the loose belt buckle hitting him hard in the chest. 

   Harge quickly pulled them on and got up from the bed. “What the fuck is this? You can’t just- ugghhh.” He stumbled, clutching at his forehead, and then sunk back down onto the bed. 

   “What? Hungover? See, I knew you hadn’t quit drinking!” she hissed, and hurled the little chip at him that she’d still been gripping tightly in her fist. 

   Harge winced, but it glanced off his shoulder and fell lamely to the floor where it rolled under the bed. “Stop throwing things!” he growled. “And come on, give me a break! It was New Year’s Eve! I’m allowed one little drink to celebrate, that’s not a fucking crime.” 

   Carol actually screamed. “Aaauuughhhh! You are unbelievable, you know? You DON’T get a hangover from one little drink, Harge! And you absolutely DON'T get to claim you want to get back together when you’ve got a secret girlfriend stashed away here!” 

   Carol became aware of how uncomfortably hot her face had become and even the large bedroom suddenly felt sickeningly claustrophobic. “I need air,” she panted, and flew from the room. She was already at the stairs when she heard Harge’s heavy footfall coming after her. 

   “Carol, wait!” he called. “I can explain everything! Damn it, slow down!” 

   But she didn’t stop until she had reached the backyard. She leaned on the deck railing and buried her face in her hands, taking great gulps of the fresh air. The gentle sounds of birds chirping in the surrounding trees and the trickling of the pool waterfall felt strangely at odds with the storming going in her own head. 

   A large hand came and rested on her shoulder. “Carol. Baby, just listen. Let me explain,” Harge said softly. 

   She jerked to shrug it off his hand and turned to face him. “Oh I’m not your baby, Harge. And I don’t want to listen. Whatever this is, whatever is going on, I don’t even care anymore. Be with Cynthia. Drink yourself to death. I just want the divorce.” 

  “But Carol—.” 

  “No! I’m not being unreasonable, Harge. I deserve it! I deserve it and you owe it to me! After everything you’ve put me through.” 

   She braced herself for another rebuttal, but it didn’t come. Harge just stared at her with big, brown eyes that she couldn’t read. Finally, he slumped down onto one of the deck chairs and started massaging his temples and brow with his fingertips. “Okay,” he sighed.  

   Carol could hardly believe she’d heard correctly. “What? Okay?” She collapsed down into the chair next to him. “So… so you’ll sign the papers?” 

   Harge nodded. “I will. I just… I need you to give me a little bit more time.” 

   Carol thumped her fists into the arms of the chair, rolling her eyes. _Of course there’s a catch._ “Why, Harge?! Why do you need more time? And don’t you dare say again it’s because you still love me, because we both know that’s bullshit. I don’t think you ever did love me. So for once in your life just stop lying and tell me what this is about.”

   Harge got up, put his hands in pockets, and started pacing the deck. She watched him take several turns of the length of it before prompting him again. “Well?”

   “It’s about my work,” he said, without looking at her. 

   Carol didn’t respond immediately. That was about the last thing she had expected him to say. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” she finally shot at him. 

   He continued to pace, not looking at her. “Well, when you sent the divorce papers a couple months ago, I had just found out that I was up for a big promotion. Roger Haskell, you remember him don’t you? He announced he would be retiring at the end of the year and I’m up for his job. Senior Vice President of all West Coast development. It would be… really huge.” 

   “I still don’t see what any of this has to do with—.” 

   “The divorce… it was hurting my chances. Making me look weak. I can’t even keep my own life in line, what does that say for my ability to take charge of an entire division of the company?” 

   “You can’t be serious.” 

   “You know these men in charge, Carol. They're old school. Conservative. It’s all about image!” 

   “So, so you’ve been lying and saying we’re still together? Where do they think I’ve been all these months? I used to have to go to all kinds of events with you.” 

   “I… I told them you took Rindy to Washington to take care of your sick mother for a while,” he shrugged.

   “Jesus Christ.” Carol shook her head in disbelief. "Then what? What was your plan exactly? Did you think I would just forget we were still married and go on like this indefinitely? Because that doesn’t work for me. I’ve met someone. I won’t just sit in limbo anymore.” 

   Harge scratched at his five o’clock shadow. “No. I was just stalling. I knew you wouldn’t want to go along with any of this so I thought if I acted like I wanted to get back together it would hold things off for long enough until the promotion went through and things got settle— wait, you’ve met someone? Who?” He stopped pacing and finally looked her in the eye.

   Carol opened her mouth to answer but quickly snapped it shut again. She wouldn’t drag Therese into this, even just by name. “Hey, I’m not the one on trial here.” she said. “I made my feelings about us perfectly clear. But you… you. I mean of all the dirty, rotten, manipulative… playing me… playing your _daughter_. You know, back when we were young, your ambition used to be one of the things I admired about you. But it's turned you cold, Harge.” 

   Harge clenched his jaw. “Look,” he growled. “I did what I had to do, okay? A few more weeks. That’s all I’m asking here. The next board meeting is coming up and they’ll want me settled in before that. Then I’ll sign the papers. And you won’t have to see me. Just like you want.” 

   Carol felt as if she’d been punched in stomach. She had already thought things were about as screwed up as they could get before today, and yet this was somehow worse. At least when she’d been under the impression Harge still harbored some sort of latent feelings for her or for their family, there had been a small semblance of redemption in that. Yeah he was still a jerk who needed to move on, she’d come here today to put her foot down on that, but she could grant him the concession in part that feelings could be complicated and difficult. But this, this was low. This was an admittance that she had meant absolutely nothing. Just a ticket to more money and a bigger office.

   “Do you really think any of this is how I wanted it, Harge? For us? For Rindy?”  

   She spoke more calmly now; the cyclone that had been raging inside her had lulled. It felt like all she’d ever done with this man was fight, and she didn’t want to anymore. “This is what’s going happen,” she said, standing to meet him. “You’ve got till the end of the month to sign the papers and not one day more. If I don’t have them on January 31st, I’m getting the lawyers involved and I promise you Harge, this will get ugly. I won’t hold back. About any of it. Understand?” 

   Harge took a deep breath of relief. “Thank you, Carol. Thank you for doing this for me.” 

   He reached forward to take her hands in his, but she pulled them away. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Rindy. If I can somehow spare her the all that shit in court I will. But I can only go on for so long. So I meant what I said, and I just, well I just hope you’ll do the right thing.” 

   Carol smirked at the irony of her own words, because they were already so far beyond  _ the right thing _ . She turned away started back for the house.

   “You’re wrong you know, Carol. About me,” Harge called after her. 

   She paused with her hand hovering just above the back door handle but did not turn around. 

   “That I never loved you,” he went on. “I did.” 

   Carol opened the door, then turned to take one last look at him before going inside. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “But I’m not sure you know how to love, Harge.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life got a wee bit batshit. But I'm sure y'all know the drill. Stoked to be able to post again. I was just looking at the comments for the last chapter- thanks so much for all kind words!! And thanks to those who checked in the the mean time, sorry I left ya hangin'! <3


	12. Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phewww, this chapter was tough to finish. Stitched together from a few paragraphs here and there when I had time and sometimes just a few sentences. Not my preferred way to write, but hopefully it reads okay:)

**January 2**

 

 In the day and some since the New Year’s party, and with less than one day left until their official grand opening, the little music shop by the beach had transformed- first back into its former clean but sparse shell of a store, the floors swept clear and mopped of spilt champagne and confetti, and then into the treasure trove it was now as the three owners finally filled the shelves and walls with merchandise.

   After working hard through the morning to bring it into its present state, Dannie and Phil had elected to indulge in what they felt was a well deserved break. Phil now perched on a stool, picking out a melody on one of the refurbished guitars they were selling, his long fingers moving across the strings with swift and practiced elegance. Dannie, whose interest in music had always been rooted more in the history and culture, and whose playing experience had ended with a plastic recorder in Mrs. Wheeler’s fourth grade music class, lay sprawled out on the ground at his brother's feet, eyes closed and toes tapping in the air to the rhythm of the song.

   But the same sense of satisfied passivity had not managed to pass through to Therese. Whether or not it was the impending opening of the store, or the fact that a certain beautiful blonde with whom she had spent a deliciously wonderful evening two nights previous was set to arrive any moment to pick her up, Therese found herself hopelessly restless. She continued to work, standing among the isles and anxiously rifling through one of the many crates of vinyl, pulling out records and reorganizing them where she found them out of precise alphabetical order.

   “Dannie,” she called out to him as she swapped around several more improperly sorted albums, “Do you remember anything you learned in kindergarten? Were you somehow absent everyday they covered the ABCs?”

   Dannie did not open his eyes, but smiled as if in the midst of a pleasant dream. “Hmmm kindergarten, kindergarten…,” he mused, “uhhh I do remember I kissed Elizabeth Green under the jungle gym that year.”

   “In kindergarten?” Therese shot back, surprised.

   She quickly thought, rather self-consciously now, on the fact that she had been well past sixteen before she had ever kissed anyone. A nice, but quiet boy in her history class, to whose house she had gone over to work on a presentation. He had completely surprised her by suddenly announcing his crush on her, and then abruptly leaning in and kissing her over their cardboard poster on life in the early-American colonies. And even then, far from the reverence with which Dannie seemed to remember his kiss, Therese had been so embarrassed by the whole thing that she had practically run home right after he’d done it, and had hardly been able to bring herself to talk to the boy again in the following days long enough to finish their project.

   Dannie continued to grin, finally opening his eyes and propping himself up on his elbows. “Oh yeah,” he answered with a sly nod. “I mean, I have always been the lady killer that you see before you now.”

   Phil snorted. “Yeah, the ladies see your face and they immediately drop dead.” He played several low notes on his guitar, mimicking the sad _wha-wha-wha-whaaa_ of a trombone.

   “Well as I am the significantly better looking brother, I worry then what happens to them when they have to look at you,” Dannie countered.

   “Ha! Better looking. Good one Dann-o. Now remind me, wasn’t Elizabeth Green the one who gave you a black eye and made you cry the following year?”

   Dannie just tossed his head back, his nose in the air, and shrugged. “Yes, well, like any of the great romances throughout history, ours also had its moments of strife.”

   “She chucked a ball at him during recess and butterfingers missed it,” Phil explained to Therese. “His eye swelled right shut and that's what got him the nickname Winky all through grade school.”

   “Whatever. It’s still a better nickname than yours back then, eh _Barf-Boy_?”

   Phil quickly set the guitar aside and pulled an unsuspecting Dannie into a headlock, growling, “Hey! I can’t help it if I’m lactose intolerant!”

   “He upchucked… all over… Brian Wolcott’s… eighth birthday cake!” Dannie managed to grunt out as he tried to wriggle out of Phil’s grip.

   “That’s it Winky! You asked for it!” Phil bellowed, and he started to rub his knuckles hard into the top of Dannie’s head.

     “Come on guys,” Therese pleaded as the two brothers began to grapple, knowing the kind of roughhousing this would quickly devolve into. Some things never changed, no matter how old they got. But the two didn’t seem to be paying her attention any longer, and not having any of her own for comparison, she wondered quietly to herself if this was normal for all adult siblings, or if she had just managed to ally herself with this particularly _special_ set.

   “Guys… GUYS!” Finally when she shouted they stopped their scuffling. With Dannie still locked under Phil’s arm and Phil’s head pushed back awkwardly by one of Dannie’s free hands, they looked to her as best they could, breathing heavily but both grinning. “What?” they said in unison.

   “I don’t know… could we act a little more mature maybe? In our place of business?”

   “We’re just messing around,” said Phil. “We’re not even open yet.”

   But Dannie gave her a knowing look and at last pulled his head free of Phil’s somewhat slackened grip. “Ah it’s all right Phil, she’s just nervous we’re going to embarrass her when Carol gets here.”

   “Oh right... speaking of _lady killers_.” Phil winked at her.

   Therese gave a small, reproachful shake of her head, but secretly she was pleased.

   Then, as if saying her name had summoned her there, Carol appeared at the open back door. “Knock, knock,” she called, strolling in. “Oh wow. It looks wonderful in here.”

   She looked breezy and chic in relaxed jeans and a stripey, knit sweater, her hair tied back in a casual knot with a few loose strands tucked behind her ears. Therese was reminded of the first time she had seen her, the day Carol had rushed into the shop after Rindy, although she noted that this time Carol’s shoes did form a matching pair.

   “Hi,” said Therese, the word coming out much softer than she had intended, and she wondered if there would ever come a time when seeing Carol didn’t automatically render her breathless. Without looking, she dumped the stack of records she was still holding in a random crate, suddenly very unconcerned with the proper alphabetization.

   Carol smiled back at her. “Hi. You look lovely today.”

   Dannie, who was standing right next to Therese now, put an arm around her shoulder. “Well gosh, thanks, Carol! This _is_ a new shirt I’m wearing.”

   Phil came up to her other side, mirroring Dannie’s pose. “That’s so nice of you to say Carol, but you really should be complimenting Therese here. I mean, she's the one you are going out with.”

   Therese glowered at both of them and ducked out from under their arms. “Okay, Abbott. Costello. I think that’s enough from you two.”

   But Carol was laughing. “Gentlemen, it’s nice to see you both again,” she chortled.

   Therese stepped forward, addressing Carol before either brother could say anything more. “Shall we go?”

   “Hang on,” said Carol, taking up Therese’s hands pulling her a little closer. “Don’t I get the grand tour of the place first? I haven’t yet seen it all put together like this.”

   Therese paused for a moment to look down at their now interlaced fingers, still marveling at the wonderful way they fit together. She flexed her fingers ever so slightly to better sense the feeling of Carol’s between her own, checking to make sure the magnificent woman before her was indeed real.

   “Sure, if you like,” she finally said, looking up to meet Carol’s eyes again. "Where’s Rindy, though?” She peered around Carol’s shoulders as if the little girl might’ve been hiding behind her the entire time.

   “Oh she’s out on the back stoop defending the picnic basket from thieves and pillagers or something like that. She was really worried someone would want to steal the cookies or her sand toys if we left it unattended,” explained Carol, rolling her eyes. “She'll be all right for a few minutes.”

   “We’re having a picnic?”

   “Mmhmm, I thought we could take it down to the beach and spend the afternoon there. If that’s okay with you?”

   “More than okay,” Therese beamed. “Come on, let me show you around.”

    She tugged Carol along by the hand, heading down an isle, but stopped as she became aware of Dannie and Phil who were still standing just feet away, unashamedly surveying this entire interaction. She made a conspicuous throat-clearing noise and glared at them both with the best _quit-it-or-else_ look she could muster. Both of them jumped, quickly averting their eyes, and began erratically shuffling through the items nearest them, pretending to be busy.

   The shop, though respectable in size, was not exactly vast, and it was not very long before Therese had shown Carol everything and the pair had circled back around to the rear of the store again.

   “And where does that go?” asked Carol, inclining her head towards a door at the back which Therese hadn’t deemed necessary to point out.  

   “That? That's just storage and a little break area. It’s still a mess,” she said.

   “Show me,” Carol pressed, giving Therese’s hand a squeeze, and Therese noticed a strange glint in the blue eyes.

   She stared back, nonplussed. “Uh… it’s really not all that exciting.”

   “I want to look anyway,” insisted Carol. And then, to Therese’s surprise, it was she who was being led along by Carol’s hand, and she who was being pulled through the door by Carol’s unhesitating maneuvering.

   It was dark in the little room which had no windows of it’s own. Therese flipped the switch on the wall near her and a single light in the ceiling flickered on, illuminating the room with a dull, green-tinged, fluorescent glow. Most every inch of the floor was stacked waist-high with cardboard boxes that had not yet managed to make there way onto the wire storage shelves around the perimeter; except for a small cleared path that branched off on one side to a meager break area- a coffee maker on a plastic table and several fold-out chairs clustered around it, and then to the bathroom door on the other side.

   “Soo… this is pretty much it. Everything you were hoping for?” Therese said, half laughing. She turned to Carol, expecting to find her looking bashful at the now obvious truth that this was in fact, just as Therese had said, an unremarkable part of the shop.

   But to her surprise, Carol was smirking slyly back at her. “It’s _exactly_ what I was hoping for. With your friends out there it's the perfect place for me to do this.”

   Her gaze dipped to Therese’s lips, and Therese suddenly understood. Carol put a hand to her neck, drawing her in, and Therese surrendered gladly into the kiss.

   Carol’s lips were soft and sweet tasting like she remembered; her arms were steady and sure, encircling Therese’s waist; and Carol’s hands, running gently over and pressing into her back, anchored her to this new reality. And Therese, who just moments before had been questioning whether or not Carol could possible be real, now held onto her as if Carol was the only solid thing left in the world.

   Would Carol ever cease to render her breathless? Would a kiss from her ever not make the earth itself vanish around them? No. Therese did not think so.

   “I missed you,” Carol sighed, as they finally pulled apart.

   “It’s only been one day,” Therese teased.

   “Hmmm…,” Carol pecked her lips again, “definitely feels like longer.”

   “I know exactly what you mean,” and Therese raised up on her toes to return the quick kiss. “We should probably get going though. I’m sure they’re getting pretty curious out there as to what we are doing in here.” Reluctantly, she let her hands slide away from Carol’s shoulder’s, and Carol let go of her waist.

   When they emerged, Dannie and Phil had their heads bent close together and were speaking in rapid, hushed tones that died out as soon as they noticed Therese and Carol, leaving Therese with no doubts as to the subject of their conversation. She couldn’t really blame them for their interest. Though she had dated before during the course of their friendship, it was usually short-lived and never with anyone she was so openly excited about as she was with Carol, and Therese was sure they sensed this change. Deep down, she was grateful for their support, even when it so often manifested itself in the form of playful teasing. They waved and flashed her big, toothy smiles as she and Carol headed for the door.

       Rindy leapt off the back steps that led up to the upstairs flat and came running at them full speed the moment the two women came into view. “Mama, Therese, guess what,” she squealed. “Like a bajillion seagulls landed right by me! They had mean eyes, and they wanted our picnic. I could tell. But I ranned at them and made them all fly away, all by myself.”

   “No way, a bajillion?!” cried Therese, letting her jaw hang open dramatically as she put out her hand for a high five, which Rindy gave enthusiastically. “That is quite impressive. It’s a good thing you were here to save the day.”

   “Well maybe not _whole_ bajillion,” Rindy amended. “But like a hundred… or fifty at least… pretty sure.”

 

   Either because everyone was still away or still recovering from the holidays, the avenue had settled into the quiet, sleepy state that was usually reserved only for the Sunday evening slump; when everyone retreated back to their homes to savor the final remnants of the weekend and mentally prepare for another dreaded Monday.

   The trio only passed a few stray wanderers on their walk down to the water, exchanging friendly greetings as they did. Most addressed Carol by name, and it was clear from the honest smiles and cheery hellos that Carol was well liked in the neighborhood.

   Therese had offered to pull the wagon that held the picnic basket and blanket and Rindy’s collection of sand toys; but on her other side, Carol held on to her free hand and did not let go the entire way.

   Therese did not know whether or not Carol did indeed have some sort of chat with Rindy about the two of them, or if the little girl was simply unfazed by this trivial, every-day kind of display, but she did not say anything about the hand-holding. She skipped along in front of them, chattering on excitedly about her return to school the following day, paying the pair little attention other than to urge them to move faster every few dozen feet.

   And yet, the action did not feel trivial in the least to Therese. She felt pleased and a little proud to be seen out and about, holding Carol’s hand. Even if it was only by a small handful of people.  

   The air was cool, as typical for the season, but the California sun shone bright on this cloudless day, the rays lapping at their faces and keeping them warm. Therese imagined fancifully that it had appeared just for them, as if the earth mother had resolved too that this day should be nothing other than perfect.

   Happiness unspooled around her that afternoon, in fine, shimmering threads which surrounded her like a golden net. A barrier that would not let anything remotely mean or ugly enter onto that beach with them.

   It was happiness when they built a city of sand castles with Rindy, and then tromped over them like Godzilla destroying Tokyo, roaring and laughing, only to start the whole thing over again.

   It was happiness when they walked out on the jetty, and Carol, protective and strong, grabbed her around the waist, lifting her clear off her feet and swinging her to safety as a great wave that Therese had not seen coming crashed upon the rocks, sending salty spray ten feet high that surely would’ve drenched her otherwise.

   It was happiness when they sat upon the old, faded quilt spread out as a beach blanket, eating fat slices of watermelon, and Carol reached over to brush her thumb, softly, tenderly, under Therese’s lower lip, catching a drip of the pink juice rolling down her chin.

   It was happiness when Carol pulled Therese over to sit between her knees.

   Happiness as Therese settled back against Carol’s chest, holding onto the arms wrapped securely around her middle, Carol's chin resting on her shoulder and nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

   Happiness, as they watched the sunset together, the sky turning into stripes of orange and pink and purple that swirled and blurred together, Rindy soundly asleep beside them, tuckered out from the day’s adventure.

   And it was happiness as Therese realized that she was falling in love.

   She had never been in love before, and much less had she expected it to begin with someone she had known for as short of time as she had Carol. But nonetheless she was sure it was happening. A deep and irrevocable free-fall. And with all the happy she felt, she couldn’t even find the tiniest bit of room in herself to be scared.

   She sank deeper into Carol’s embrace as the sun finally plunged beneath an amethyst horizon, and the first stars of the evening began to awaken over head.

   

   

   

 


	13. Up the Ante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, it's been a while...

**January 3**

 

_ 7:31AM Text Message from: Abby _

Morning! Give a kiss from me to that gorgeous little god-daughter of mine on her first day back to school. :)

_ 8:12AM Text Message from: Abby _

Well well, this is unusual… me in the office before you. Is this what it feels like to be the responsible one? Not sure I like it… it's too quiet here. Let’s go back to the way things were tomorrow, yeah? 

_ 8:28AM Text Message from: Abby _

Heads up, I had three phone messages from Virginia Price. She wants an update on those hideous chairs she dropped off last week… pretty fucking sassy about it too. 

_ 8:57AM Text Message from: Abby _

And she calls AGAIN… what a witch. 

_ 8:58AM Text Message from: Abby _

Excuse me, that should have been a B. 

Are you coming in soon?

_ 9:32AM Text Message from: Abby _

Where are you? Everything okay? You sick?

_ 9:47AM Missed Call from: Abby _

_ 9:48AM New Voicemail from: Abby _

_ 9:58AM Missed Call from: Abby _

_ 10:06AM Text Message from: Abby _

This is not funny Carol…

_ 10:29AM Missed Call from: Abby _

 

* * *

 

   With Therese sitting atop the counter, Carol was for once at a slight height disadvantage. She lifted up on her toes and leaned into the young woman’s knees as they took advantage of a lull in customers to kiss in the quiet, empty shop.

   When the phone started ringing she did not desist. Nibbling at Therese’s ear she whispered, “Don’t answer it.” 

   Therese giggled, but reached behind to pick up the receiver. “I can’t start slacking on our first day.” She pecked Carol on the nose before bringing the phone to her ear. “McElroy Music, this is Therese.” 

   “Spoil sport,” Carol grumbled. 

   But unable to resist for very long, she leaned in again and brushed her lips teasingly along Therese’s jaw. 

   The brunette took a quivering breathe, lifting her chin slightly, and Carol took this as invitation to proceed and continued to make her way down Therese’s neck. 

   “Yeah, is—… well we just—… okay…,” Therese stammered into the phone. 

   Carol wished for the unknown caller to hang up already; she wanted Therese to herself again. She tugged at the collar of her shirt to expose the skin there and placed several kisses along her collarbone making the younger woman squirm, but Therese did not push her away. 

   “Got it. Bye.”  

   Carol finally heard the click from the receiver as Therese hung up the phone. “Who was that?” she murmured into the soft skin on Therese’s shoulder. 

   Therese didn’t answer and instead put a hand under Carol’s chin, lifting her head and guiding their lips back together. “It has been a really nice morning,” she hummed. “But…” 

   And Therese suddenly pulled away, kicking up her feet and twisting around on the countertop so she dropped down on the other side. “…It seems it's time for you to go.” 

   Carol stood frozen at the abruptness of this, one hand still oddly suspended in the air where it had just a moment ago been tangled in Therese’s hair. “Oh. Yeah, of course. I should go,” she mumbled, and she could have cringed at the pathetic whine that shone through in her voice. 

   Therese must’ve heard it too. She smirked at Carol. “I wish you could stay all day, I do, but that was Abby on the phone.” 

   “What? Abby? What did she say?” 

   “Uh, well she first said to tell you that you’re a nitwit,” Therese explained, wrinkling her nose. “And then she asked if you could possibly bear to tear your ‘big, blue, puppy-dog eyes’ away from me long enough to check your phone. Oh and something about this being real life and not a romance novel? Essentially anyway. The language may have been a tad more em…  _ colorful _ than that.” 

_ Of all the… I’m going to kill her.  _

__  Therese evidently found this very funny as she had started laughing, but Carol felt entirely harassed as she fumbled around for her purse.  She was startled therefore to find the long thread of missed texts and calls that greeted her when she finally pulled out her phone. 

   “Shit. That’s not seriously the time. I haven’t been—, that long?!” 

   She had only planned to drop in, wish Therese luck on the shop’s first official day open. How had the morning hours slipped away so effortlessly?

   “ ’fraid so,” said Therese. “I hope I haven’t gotten you into too much trouble with Abby. Though if it means anything, I happen to like your big, blue, puppy-dog eyes very much.” She picked up the bouquet of flowers Carol had brought her, a lavish clutch of wildflowers of Rindy’s choosing from a stand they’d passed on their way to the school bus stop that morning, and held them to her nose. Her green eyes peered back at Carol over the tops of the golden, pink, and plum colored petals, gripping her like a magnet. 

   “I’ll make it up to her,” Carol shrugged, unable or simply unwilling to look away, even as Therese dropped her gaze to pull a pair of scissors from the drawer and began trimming the ends of the stems. Saying goodbye was becoming an increasingly difficult task. 

   “You’re coming up for dinner tonight, right?” she asked, even though Therese had already said she would. It was as if she needed the extra affirmation she would only have to make it a few hours before seeing her again.

   “You sure? You’re not sick of me yet?” Therese countered, though her challenge was undermined by the unmistakably satisfied smile she was now trying to stifle.  

   “Not sure if that’s possible.”

 

* * *

 

   When Carol came in the front entrance to Aird & Gerhard fifteen minutes later, Abby was deep into a phone call. She reclined in her chair with her back to the door, her feet propped up on the edge of the desk, but Carol could tell by the sag in her shoulders this was not a particularly enjoyable conversation.

   “Of course, Mrs. Price… yes I do understand the situation… well you know we weren’t open over the holidays and you’ll see in your service estimate… of course… yes absolutely, I can assure you Carol has been hard at work all morning…. _ ”  _

   Carol tiptoed past her and slipped into the workroom. She hastily tied on an apron and began pulling down her tools from their spots on the peg board, resolving not to dawdle with what time she had left in the day. 

   When she turned around again, arms full, Abby had suddenly appeared, quite soundlessly, three feet from her. 

   “Jesus Christ!” Carol yelped. “Don’t sneak up on a person like that!” 

   “Sorry,” mumbled Abby, bending down to pick up the silver awl that Carol had dropped in her surprise. 

   Carol shook her head. “No, don’t. Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. I just didn’t hear you come in is. And I'm uh… I’m sorry too about this morning. Really. For leaving you to cover for me with that lady and everything. I guess I got a little caught up when I dropped in on Therese this morning.”

   Abby’s brows rose a fraction. 

   “Okay, so I got a lot caught up.”

   Abby rolled her eyes, and Carol was relieved to see a hint of a smile finally break across her features as she plunked down in one of the ugly chintz armchairs Carol was setting to reupholster. “Oh, I don’t really care about some crabby old customer,” she said, twirling the awl around absentmindedly in her hand. “I can take ‘em. I was worried about  _ you _ . You usually give me at least a heads up whenever you're going to mysteriously disappear for several hours.” 

   Carol gave a guilty grimace. 

   “I think maybe I was a tad harsh with Therese on the phone though,” Abby conceded. “Apologize for me will you?” 

   Carol honestly thought that Therese had found the whole thing rather endearing; but she wouldn’t tell Abby that. Abby Gerhard was not one to apologize for the toes she stepped on, and Carol felt touched by the gesture. She would also probably leave out the fact that at the same time Abby had been scolding them on the phone, she had been busy trying to distract Therese by put her lips to every inch of flesh on her neck and shoulders which had perhaps somewhat diluted the weight of her words. 

   Abby went on, “This is real, this thing with you and her, isn’t it?” 

   Carol opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. All she could manage was an earnest nod as she slid down into the chair next beside her friend.  

   “And?” Abby pressed. 

   “And… and I don’t know! I don’t know how to explain it. Ughh… what I am I doing, Abby? This is a terrible idea. I have no business getting involved with someone right now. I’ve got a kid to think about. And all this crap with Harge?” Now that Carol had started, she couldn’t seem to stop, and the words began spilling out of her in a feverish tide. “And what if, what if it doesn’t work out? She’s got that shop below the house, I’ll have to move! I can’t see her everyday. And you should see Rindy… she is already getting attached. Fuck, who am I kidding? Rindy…  _ me _ .  _ I’m _ getting attached. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like… like… I can’t even put words to it. Things just, they feel better when she’s there, and when she’s not, I’m thinking about her all the time and—.” 

   “Okay, slow down.” Abby cut over her.

   “I know. I know! You’re right. This is all way too fast.” Carol slumped forward, burying her face in her hands. “I mean Jesus, will you listen to me? I’ve only known her what, two weeks? A couple dates?  _ If _ you can even count that first one, which you probably can’t because I ditched her so I could go sort out my insane husband. I sound crazy.”

   “No, I meant literally sloooowww down. You’re talking a mile a minute.” 

   Carol wavered and then swallowed her next words. 

   “You don’t sound crazy,” Abby said.

   “No?” 

   “No. What it sounds like is falling in love.”   

   Carol’s head snapped up. “Love?!” Her voice cracked over the word. “I never—  I didn’t say… love?” 

__  Abby was obviously crazier that she was, Carol decided. Two years in a relationship, the first time Abby had ever stuck it out with one person, and she had gone completely soft. 

   But, then again, perhaps.  _ Am I…  falling in love? _

   “Well don’t get alarmed,” said Abby, chuckling. “It happens to the best of us you know.” 

   But Carol  _ was _ alarmed, and Abby’s remarkable nonchalance about this was doing little to make her feel any less so.   

   “Listen, I’ve an idea. I know just what exactly what you need. Why don’t you and Therese go away this weekend? Let me take Rindy, and you two can go have a little time for yourselves, hmm? How about that?” 

   “Go away?” Carol echoed thinly. 

   “Yeah, go away. Take a trip. Drive down the coast or something.” Abby leapt up out of her chair so she hovered combatively over Carol. “Look, it’s all settled. I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s perfect! A nice, romantic weekend away with Therese. No work. No kids.  _ Definitely _ no husbands!” She gesticulated wildly, jabbing on every word with the long sharp awl she still held, like she was angry at Carol for not showing more immediate excitement over the idea.

   Carol went near crossed-eyed watching the wicked point come dangerously close to her nose. “O-okay, okay! You don’t have to take my eye out.” 

   Abby looked down at the tool in her hand as if she was only just noticing it was there, blushed, and set it down delicately on the tabletop nearest them. “Right. Good. So you’ll ask her. That’s good. I’m just uh, going to get back to work then.” She turned and headed for the office door. 

   Carol caught her before she could leave, one more worry leaping from her lips as her mind buzzed in a panicked flurry of mixed fear and excitement. “Abby? What if she doesn’t want to go away this weekend? Er I mean, we haven’t exactly done— ah, haven’t yet talked about—.” 

   Abby cut her off with a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and as she looked back at Carol, her expression was almost pitying. “Honestly Carol, most of the time I’m kidding around, but sometimes you really are a huge fucking nitwit.” Then she turned away, wrenching open the door, and Carol heard her mutter, “What if she doesn’t want to go? Puhhh. For fuck’s sake,” before it swung shut after her. 

 

* * *

 

_ Love. Falling in love. Falling. Love.  _

   Abby's words repeated themselves in Carol’s head over and over all afternoon, looming in the forefront of her thoughts like a shadowy figure that she could not decide whether was friend, or foe.  

   She had been in love just twice before, or at least what she had believed was love at the time. Each had proven cataclysmic in their own respect, and together, they had left her distinctly wary about the entire matter. Sure, perhaps  _ some _ people had success in it. She could appreciate that. But not her. No, nothing good had ever come from Carol Aird falling in love. 

   Well, except Rindy of course. But that particular little spot of sunshine was merely the exception to a ugly and painful rule.  _ Right? _

__  Carol climbed the stairs up to the flat that evening with heavy, weary steps, weighted down by the dissonance between the intensity of her feelings for Therese, and her fear of those same feelings. She sat with Rindy at the dining table as the little girl did her homework, brooding and only half-listening to Rindy’s chatter about her school day. She was debating with herself whether or not she should just call Therese and cancel for the evening. She could easily pretend Rindy wasn’t feeling well; buy herself a little more time to think.  

   But Carol had little chance to decide one way or another however before there was a soft knock on the door announcing that Therese had already arrived. 

   She took a long deep breathe before she opened it, feeling miserable in a cloud of uncertainty.  

   Therese stood there on the welcome mat, a large brown-paper grocery sack balanced in her arms. “Hi!” she said brightly, and then started in rapidly before Carol could so much as say hello or invite her in. “I thought since you were making dinner, I might make dessert. Chocolate chip cookies, my famous recipe. Well, not really  _ famous _ . But Dannie says they’re pretty good. Although he’ll eat most anything so I’m not sure that actually means very much. Anyway, I didn’t know if you had eggs so I picked up some of those and then I kind of ended up getting some of everything because I wasn’t sure what ingredients you’d have. Maybe I went a little overboard at the store now that I think about it…” 

   Therese washed over her in a wave of warmth, embracing her. As she spoke, Carol could feel her anxieties slipping away; the vise in her chest start to slacken and ease until she could breathe fully again. Suddenly she knew it would be okay, and she could have laughed at her own ridiculousness in a day wasted doubting.

   Because Therese wasn’t Abby. She certainly wasn’t Harge. This wasn’t the same as those times before. 

   It had been effortful then. She had rationalized everything; constantly reassuring herself it was right until she almost believed it. 

   Almost. 

   For even at her most convincing, she could never quite make up for that little part of herself that just wasn’t in it; the last piece of her heart she couldn’t give away even when her marriage fell apart, or when it nearly cost her her best friend. And it dawned on Carol now that while she had spent all day considering every reason why things shouldn’t go on with Therese, this was not one of them. Therese could have it all.  

   Therese was still going on, “… probably have most of this stuff. I should’ve called. Shit, you didn’t already have something planned did you? I didn’t even think. Did I totally just—.” 

   “Come away with me for the weekend,” Carol blurted out. 

   That stopped her. Therese’s eyes immediately grew wide. 

   “A trip. Just you and me. Could you get the guys to cover you downstairs?”  

   Abby had been right of course, but Carol still felt delighted and a little relieved to see Therese nod so eagerly. “I— yes. Yes.” she said. "Where will we go? Oh, never mind, it doesn’t even matter.” She sprung forward to kiss Carol, the bag of groceries crushed between them.

 

   Carol’s invitation seemed to stir something in Therese, a particular boldness beyond her usual self that made the air between them crackle and pulse that evening. 

   Working in the kitchen, Carol would look out into the living room where Therese was playing a board game with Rindy and often would catch the glittering, gold-flecked eyes already trained on her. This alone was not so unusual, but where the younger woman would have normally turned away in a blush at having been caught staring, now she held firm, almost challenging, until Carol began to feel flushed herself and had to look away again. 

   Perhaps it was this new spirit that brought Therese into the kitchen a little while later to further up the ante. 

   “Well your daughter is a shark at Chutes and Ladders” she said cheerily as she came in. “As the humble two-time loser, I have been sent to retrieve her some juice.” 

   Carol, standing over the sink and rinsing lettuce and vegetables for the salad, glanced back and flashed her a quick grin. “Middle shelf in the fridge,” she directed, “and she only likes it in that purple cup in the third cupboard over. 

   How about some juice for us while your at it? There’s a few bottles of wine there on the counter, dealer’s choice.” 

   “All right,” said Therese, and it was quiet for a moment save for the sounds of the running water, clinking glasses, and the bright pop of a loosed cork.  

   “Rindy was also just showing me her writing from school today,” Therese ventured into the silence. 

   “Oh?” Carol vaguely remembered Rindy saying something about this earlier, when she had been too busy wallowing in her own worries to listen properly. 

   Therese set a glass of wine down next to her. “Mmhmm. They had to write about their vacation. Want me to read it to you?”  

   She nodded in assent, smiling inwardly at the mutual affection that seemed to have so rapidly blossomed between Therese and her daughter. 

   “My Winter Vacation, by Rindy Aird…” Therese began allowed. 

   Carol dried her hands on a dish towel and settled back against the counter so she could watch Therese, who sat at the island with her wine in one hand, Rindy’s glitter-glue covered notebook propped up in front of her.  

   “ ‘… This vacation was the best one ever.’,” Therese went on. “ ‘I got art things for Christmas. My favorite is the paints. I got a ukulele.’ The spelling here is really something,” Therese added, chuckling. “ ‘It is very fun. I can do three songs. Yesterday was the best day. I went to the beach with my Mom and her girlfriend. Her name is—.’ ” 

   Therese stopped reading at the sudden display of coughing and spluttering. 

   As she had read through this last sentence, Carol had taken a hearty sip of her wine, and when the word  _ girlfriend _ registered with her, she had promptly inhaled it straight down her windpipe. Choking, gasping, she grabbed for the notebook.

   There it was in the large, clumsy scrawl of a six year old, the words slanting away from the lines of the page, one letter missing but the intention clear.  _ ‘...my Mom and her girlfrend’  _ Rindy had written. Then she had continued on,  _ ‘Her name is Turez.’  _

__  “Therese… I never said… she must have seen and thought— ,” Carol wheezed, her words perforated with more coughing. “Not that I... wouldn’t want… not without talking first… asking.” 

   Therese was staring at her. The corners of her mouth twitched and Carol saw again, that same challenging glint in her eyes. “So ask me,” she said. 

   Carol goggled at her dumbly. She felt a tear from her coughing fit stream down her cheek, and she could not even move to wipe it away.  

   “Ask me,” Therese repeated again. 

   So Carol did. 

   After Therese had said yes, the young woman collected her glass of wine and Rindy’s juice, softly kissed Carol on the cheek, and then calmly strolled off, back into the living room, without another word. Carol was left stunned and rooted to her spot in the kitchen, wondering what had just happened. 

   Slowly, she eased down onto the stool that Therese had just vacated and pulled Rindy’s notebook back over to her. She stared down at the writing. 

   Therese had obviously known what Rindy had written before she had come in, so innocently suggesting she read it to Carol. Carol couldn’t help but smile, amused.  _ My my, Therese Belivet. What a deliciously sneaky move _ . And Carol vowed there not to underestimate her new girlfriend. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I was still not totally stoked on this chapter but I knew at this point I needed to just get something out there or it was only going to get harder to get back into it the more time passed. Thank you for all your lovely comments and support over the course of this so far because they motivated me to keep going when I was so, so very stuck.


	14. Mends and Amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Procrastinating on my thesis to write this, cause it's much more fun. Much thanks as always for the kind words:)

**January 6**

 

   “Just… fucking… close… aahhhuugughg!”

   Therese knelt on the carpet, straddling the old, overstuffed travel bag as she yanked and pulled at its zipper with increasing desperation. She wiped the fresh beads of sweat from her forehead and squeezed her knees together harder in an effort to force the two sides to meet, muttering a steady slew of curses under her breath. Finally, the clasp tugged across the last few reluctant inches of zipper and she collapsed onto the ground next to it panting and puffing.

   Seconds later there was an ominous ripping and popping sound. She turned and saw a that a gaping mouth had formed in the bag where the seam had just split wide open. It looked like it was grinning, mocking her, spitting out her sweaters and jeans onto the floor.

   Therese ran her fingers along the frayed edges of the fabric. There would be knows mending this one, the tear was too big. “Well friend,” she whispered to it, “looks like you’re finally done for.”

   She dumped out the bag’s remaining contents and pulled the now useless canvas onto her lap, examining it. It had certainly seen better days. The dark green fabric was mottled with sun-bleached discolorations and numerous stains from over the years. She traced the shapes of the three little patches sewn onto its side. The embroidered lettering and pictures were faded and lifting up at the corners. Lake Superior, Mt. Rushmore, and Pikes Peak. The strange relics of someone else’s travels before the bag had somehow found its way into the children’s home lost and found box; a gloomy grave of discarded coats, lone mittens, and long-forgotten teddy bears from where Therese had salvaged it.    

   When she was little she had liked to pretend the patches were hers, trophies from places she’d actually visited. She constructed great fantasies about an imagined family—  a father who wasn’t dead, a rosy cheeked mother that doted on her, maybe a brother or sister to play and quarrel with. They would pile into a big station wagon and take road trips to all the amazing places in the country. Her father would spout all sorts of facts and stories because he knew everything about everything. Her mother would make them all pose for endless pictures in front of every tree, every statue, every rock formation. They would grumble and groan at it but they would always smile in the end because really, they were happy. It was a nice dream, one she visited often.  

   Therese never did actually add any patches herself; but in its own way, the bag contained the entire history of her own wandering and rootlessness, embroidered or not.

   It was in this bag that she had packed her things the first time she had ever tried to run away from the home, at just eleven years old, and again each of the three times after that.

   That first time she had barely lasted one night, returning the next day tired, hungry, defeated, and in plenty of time for breakfast. She had gotten better with each attempt though, eventually making it twelve days on the last try. She probably could have even gone longer too if it wasn’t for that damn off-duty cop who caught her trying to dine-and-dash. She hadn’t tried again after that.  

   But when she turned eighteen it was in this bag that she had packed up her things again to leave that place once and for all. It was a meager collection, all her worldly belongings had not even been able to fill it, but even so she'd clutched it protectively during the entirety of the smelly bus ride into the city.

    And over the next near six years she’d spent between the Twin Cities, she’d hauled the worn thing from one crappy apartment to next as she’d restlessly flitted from one crappy job to another.

   It was this bag too that had finally carried her things here, to California. It would seem now that this would be its final service.

   It was sort of fitting though, Therese thought, that it should break here, now. This, her running away bag, the bag she packed when she had no reason to stay, she didn’t really need it anymore. This time she did have a reason to stay, and she had no intention of going anywhere.

   With a knife fetched from the kitchen, she carefully cut the stitches on the three little patches, and without really knowing why, nestled Lake Superior, Mt. Rushmore, and Pikes Peak into the bottom of her sock drawer. Then she texted Carol to see if she had a spare suitcase to borrow.

 

* * *

 

   Therese offered to go pick up the suitcase herself, but Carol had said she was running errands anyhow it would be easier for her to just bring it by on her way out. Now Therese found herself anxiously surveying the little studio apartment, looking for more things in need of tidying. It wasn’t that she was exactly a slob or anything, but Carol had never seen where she lived and there had been far too many old coffee mugs and half-drunk water glasses sprinkled across all her surfaces for Therese’s liking of a first impression.

   She spied the rumpled pile of clothes she’d left at the foot of her bed from when she’d dumped out her bag, but before she could do anything for it there was a knock and she heard Carol’s muffled voice through the door.

   “Therese, it’s me.”

   Therese opened it and found Carol standing there, carrying no less than four suitcases— the handle of a wheeled one clutched in each hand and two more dangling from the crooks of her arms.    

   “Geez, are we packing for a three month cruise? I thought this was just the weekend,” Therese exclaimed, pushing the door open wider so Carol could get through.

   Carol shrugged, chuckling, “Well, I didn’t know what size you’d need.” She lumbered forward awkwardly under the combined bulk and as soon as she was far enough over the threshold she released her grip and let everything fall to the ground in a heap. She rolled her shoulders and let out a little sigh of relief before turning her attention to Therese and greeting her with a kiss. “But I do like that three month cruise idea,” she added, winking at Therese as she stepped back again. “So,” and she gestured at the pile at her feet, “which do you want?”

   Even small-town, penniless orphan like herself could recognize the print that covered all of these; Therese had never seen so much Louis Vuitton. It was all the same dark brown leather, immaculately cut and trimmed in tan. She took the one on top of and held it up, her arm extended straight out as if it might bite her, and estimated that it probably cost as much as an entire month's rent. “I can’t put my things in one of these. My clothes will get it all… dirty.”

   Carol pinched her playfully on the arm. “Oh, shush. It’s fine. This stuffs just been sitting in a closet anyway. Harge bought it all for me, for our seventh anniversary. Yep,” she nodded wistfully, “that year it was designer luggage set and a solo ticket to Bora Bora for a one month tropical retreat.”

   Her inflection was falsely bright, with a hard, hollowness behind the words.

   “You went all alone?”  

   “I mean, he would’ve liked to go too I’m sure, but you know there was work… _clients_ at home that needed _entertaining_ … or at least that was how the story went.”     

   Carol’s eyes had slid out of focus. She glared down at the luggage but Therese could tell she wasn’t really seeing. She heard a pained, sympathetic little puff come up from her own throat unwittingly. _I would never. I would never cheat on you. I would never send you away._

    Carol jerked her head at the noise and blinked rapidly a few times as if coming out of trance. “I, sorry, I don’t mean to dredge up old… it’s history.”

   Therese wanted to wrap her up in her arms and refuse to let go. Why had Carol married him? Why on earth did she stay? She wanted so desperately to know.

   “Hey,” she said, putting a knuckle to her girlfriend’s chin inclining the blonde to look at her again. “Fuck him, right?”

   Carol gave a soft smile. “Yeah... fuck him,” she echoed.

   Therese felt the need for a subject change so without lingering, she grabbed the first bag that seemed suitable and brought it over to the bed to start re-packing her things to put in it. “So, you’re still not going to tell me where we’re going tomorrow?”

   Carol followed her. “Nope. You’re just going to have to wait and be surprised, angel.” She settled next to Therese on the end of the bed, and looked up at her seriously. “It’s going to be a long trek up the mountain though, ten, maybe twelve miles. I told you to pack hiking boots right?”

   Only kidding!” she amended quickly and Therese knew she must’ve not hidden her alarm very successfully. “It’s going to be good though, I promise.”

   It was strange to see Carol here, sitting casually on her bed while they talked about romantic weekends away together. Not that Therese minded in the least. But everything had happened in such a whirlwind that it was hard not to be on constant alert for the whole thing to collapse at any given moment. She tried to push these thoughts from her mind. Everything was fine. Carol seemed perfectly at ease at least, demonstrated as she pulled her feet up onto the bed to sit cross-legged, bouncing a little on the mattress, and plucked one of Therese’s pairs of jeans from the pile on the floor to join in on the clothes folding.

   There was another knock at the door. Therese glanced at the clock, frowning, wondering who could possibly be looking for her. Dannie and Phil should still be on their shift at the shop, and the only other person she really talked to was already here. “Be right back,” she said to Carol, who just nodded and picked up another pair of pants.

   Therese suddenly remembered that somewhere in that dwindling jumble of clothes were all the new, lacy underthings she’d bought earlier that week.

   Through the peephole she saw a familiar profile and sandy brown hair. She groaned and glanced back at Carol to roll her eyes as she opened the door. “Richard. Hi. What’s up.”

   Richard looked different today, dressed for work in slacks and a tie instead of the usual t-shirt and jeans Therese saw him in. He had his hands in his pockets and a stupid grin on his face. “Terry, yes! I finally caught you!” he whooped. “I feel like I never ever see you ‘round anymore.”

    “Oh, really? Huh. I’ve just been, you know, super busy and stuff.” Therese rubbed the back of her neck. She knew very well why Richard hadn’t seen her around. It was technically true that she had been pretty busy as of late; between the shop and Carol she really hadn’t been home as much. But she’d also been actively avoiding her next door neighbor when she could— waiting an extra ten minutes in her car if she saw him smoking on the steps until the coast was clear to go inside, and on more than one occasion simply pretending not to be home when he came knocking on her door.

   “Well I think I’ve got an offer you won’t be able to refuse this time. Now hear me out…” He rocked excitedly on his heels and pulled from his pocket two little rectangles of paper which he waved in front of his chest.  “… two tickets, Sharks versus the Wild. Tomorrow. Behind the freaking glass! My boss at my new job has season tickets and didn’t want these, so he just gave ‘em to me. Badass, right? Now I just know a Minnesota girl like you has got to like hockey. What do ya say, you and me? We can wear rival jerseys. It’ll be fun.”

   Therese had to give it to him. He had perseverance. This guy just wasn’t going to give up.

   “Ehm, Richard, I should tell you. I’m sort of… I mean I _am_ , uh seeing someone now.”

   “Oh.”

   He let out a soft whistle of air and his body too seemed to deflate like a punctured tire.

   “Oh,” he said again. “Cool… yeah-yeah, that’s totally… cool. Good uh, good for you.”

   “Yeah. Thanks though, for the invite.” She fidgeted with the doorknob, unsure of what else to say.

   Richard stuffed the tickets back in his pocket, and took out a fresh pack of cigarettes instead which he started hitting against the heel of his hand. “Tall?” he said.

   “What?”

   “The guy. I bet he’s tall, isn’t he?”

   “Uh, well—.”

   He sighed and nodded as though this proved him right, pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. “Man, I gotta move away from this damn beach town. Tall. Blonde. All fuckin’… surfing gods.” Therese wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself anymore. “Everywhere. I can’t compete.” He tugged at the knot in his tie, loosening it and his cigarette bounced up and down with every word.

   Therese felt a hand at the small of her back and saw a swish of blonde hair in her peripherals. “Come on, they’re not _all_ exactly like that,” she said to Richard. “I mean, Carol, do you surf?”

   “Not a day in my life,” said Carol, her arm slipping all the way around Therese’s waist now.

   “See?” she shrugged at Richard.

   A deep crease had appeared along Richard’s forehead so that he looked like he had been given a very complicated long division problem to solve in his head.  

   “Hi. I’m Carol.” Carol put out a strong, confident hand. “Therese’s girlfriend. Richard was it?”

   The unlit cigarette fell right out of Richard’s mouth. He looked down at it, then back up at the two women, his jaw working but no words coming out.

   Carol dropped the extended hand and bent down to pick it up. She offered it back to him but he just stared at it, apparently frozen, and when he didn’t take it she reached forward and slipped it into his shirt pocket.

“It was, _is_ … er…” Richard seemed to at least have found his voice, sort of. “…that is, Richard is… me. Hi.” He slowly put up a hand and gave a strange little wave.

   Carol waggled her fingers back at him uncertainly, glancing sideways at Therese with an amused expression that clearly said, _what’s up with him?_

 Therese just jammed her knuckles in her mouth and shook her head.

   Carol cleared her throat. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She squeezed Therese’s side. “I should get going though. I’ve got one last thing to pick up for tomorrow and I said I’d be there by five.”

   “What is it? Will you tell me?” Carol had been unwaveringly tight-lipped about her plans for their trip and Therese was absolutely dying for any kind of hint, but the blonde just grinned mischievously.

   “You’ll see.”

   “Fine.” she huffed, and pretended to pout.

   Carol smirked and pulled her in for a lingering goodbye kiss.

   When they broke Therese saw that Richard had done them the courtesy of looking away. He had backed over towards his own door, the cigarette between his lips again, and he was frantically trying to light it, his lighter sparking uselessly in his bumbling fingers. Therese saw that his ears had turned a deep shade of tomato red.  

   Carol collected the leftover suitcases and headed out with a, “See you in the morning, angel,” and then, “Bye, Richard,” as she passed him at the top of the stairs.

   Richard choked on his smoke and his own goodbye was garbled with coughing. He leaned heavily on the railing and dragged a hand down his face. Therese thought she heard him mutter, “Smooth,” to himself.

   Poor Richard. Blindsided. A part of her was beginning to wish she hadn't been quite so cowardly in just owning up to the fact that she wasn’t interested. Really, he wasn’t such a bad guy. Yeah he was still a bit obnoxious at times, rather simple-minded in his interests, but Therese thought back to what Carol had implied about Harge that afternoon. She was at least confident he was far better than that. He wasn’t selfish, or cruel. In fact, he would probably make some girl really happy one day. Some nice, equally simple girl. And there was no reason Therese couldn’t at least be kind to him, friendly, as neighbors.

   Leaving the door ajar she ran back to the kitchen, grabbed a six pack from the fridge and quickly rummaged in the drawer for a bottle opener.

   Richard was just putting out his cigarette butt when she returned and he looked up in surprise as she walked over to him. His ears still had yet to regain their normal coloring.

   She set the carrier on the railing ledge between them, popped the cap on one and held out the bottle for him to take.  

   “Therese, you— you don’t have to feel bad or anything. It’s fine. Really.”

   “This is not a pity beer,” she said, matter-of-factly. “It’s just a… let’s be friends beer, okay? Neighbor.”

   There was a brief pause where Richard just stood and eyeballed it and she wondered with lapsing confidence if maybe he really was more disappointed than she’d thought. But finally, he cracked a smile and took it. “Okay. Cheers.”

   They were quiet for awhile as they drank, leaning on the railing and looking out on the grassy area in front of the building where a group of kids from the apartment were starting up a kickball game.  

   After a few minutes Richard sort of snorted to himself, chuckling low and soft.

   “What’s funny?” Therese asked.

   “Nothing.” He scratched at his five o’clock shadow. "Just that I uh, I didn’t really handle that introduction very well, huh?”

   “No, it wasn’t… so bad,” she said, but it was so obviously a terrible lie that they both started laughing.

   “I was just surprised is all, I didn’t realize. I mean, I wouldn’t have kept on like I did, you know. I guess I feel like a bit of an ass.”

   “Yeah well, I didn’t really know either, not when I first moved in here. So you’re kind of off the hook there.”

   There was a pause again while he drained the end of his beer. The street lamps flickered on with a hum. One of the kids in the kickball game sent the ball flying far and they watched as he made his home-run, the other children shrieking and cheering wildly.

   This wasn’t so bad. It was actually kind of nice, and Therese started to feel rather proud of herself for making amends.

   “I’ve got a cousin that’s a lesbian,” Richard blurted.

   Therese glanced over and saw that he was already shaking his head, regretting this, the pink rising in him again.

   She pulled another beer from the pack and handed it to him. “You know we can just drink and… watch quietly.”

   “Yeah, okay. Cool.”

   

   

  

 

   

 

   

   

 

   

   

   

    

   

   

 


	15. On the Road

**January 7**

 

“Okay, stand right… here!” Carol said as she steered Therese to a spot on the sidewalk in front of the curb, so that she faced out towards the street. 

   “Carol, what are—?” Therese tried for the third or fourth time, but Carol just squeezed her shoulders and made a soft shushing noise. 

   “You’ll see!” she insisted once again. “Now stay put.”  She kissed Therese on the temple and darted away. 

   Therese heard the door to the music shop swing open and shut again behind her, by now completely perplexed as to whatever this was Carol had cooked up. They hadn’t even gotten on the road yet and apparently there were already surprises to be had. All of Carol’s _you’ll see_ 's were was driving her crazy. But it was a good, pleasant kind of crazy, because she was still so flattered and impressed that Carol was doing any of it for her in the first place. Just being with her would have been enough in and of itself, but it seemed she was really pulling out the stops to make the trip special. So pushing aside a mounting curiosity, Therese waited just as Carol had placed her, and tried to distract herself with the mid-morning bustle on the street until Carol came back. 

   At least Carol had put her in a good position for people-watching, a pass-time Therese engaged in often and shamelessly. Between the day hours spent staring out the big front windows of McElroy Music, and the evening ones looking down on everything from the high perch of Carol’s porch swing, she’d gained a certain familiarity with the goings on of this little street, with its many characters and routines that could be counted upon for their regularity. 

   Down the sidewalks, a steady trickle surfers were making their way back from the beach, as they did each morning, boards tucked under arms and dripping wetsuits dangling half-unzipped at their wastes. Therese was still getting used to the fact that the winter here didn’t inherently preclude outdoor swimming activities. 

   Across the street, an elderly neighbor who lived in one of the little cottages was tending to her expertly tidy flower beds. _Mrs. Fran—, no Mrs. Forr—. Damn. Mrs. Fff-something._ Carol had told her the name but she couldn’t remember now. Therese liked this woman. She had a face that was lined with laughter. She was tiny, slightly stooped with age, and today her wide, straw sun-hat drooped across her shoulders further dwarfing her. But despite this rather frail appearance, Therese knew she could move with surprising vigor. Once she had spotted the woman balanced high up on a ladder cleaning the upper windows of her house, and on more than one occasion saw her swing a heavy bag of trash into the garbage can on the curb like it was a sack of helium balloons. Even now she hunched down in dirt, working energetically, weeds and hunks of earth and other pruned bits flying over her shoulder into a bin. 

   Therese quickly checked over at the house next door to see if the neighbor there was out on his porch too. She remembered his name at least, Charles -Charlie- Applewhite. He had come by the music shop to ask about some Artie Shaw records and whether or not Phil could fix up an old clarinet. 

   Therese had a theory, forged from several telling observations of the two together, that ol’ Charlie secretly had the hots for Mrs. What’s-her-name, and furthermore, it was maybe even a mutual feeling between them. 

   Carol started giggling when Therese had relayed this idea to her one evening. 

   “Stop laughing, I’m serious! I really think there’s something going on there.” 

   “I’m sorry,” Carol said, imitating Therese’s frown. “No really, I think it’s cute the way you’ve got this neighborhood all figured out in your head. Tell me, what other observations have you made around here?” 

   “Well, since you asked… there have been some very strong signs that the new girl in town, the one with the music shop, very strong signs that she has a thing with that woman who lives in the flat upstairs.” 

   “Hmmm, now _that’s_ an interesting story. This other woman though, remind me, which one is she again?” 

   “Oh, you know her. With the cute little daughter?” And when Carol continued to feign ignorance, Therese had gone on, “Tall. Blonde. Unbelievably gorgeous, in a timeless sort of way that makes your breath stop for a second if she catches you off guard.” 

   Carol blushed this time. “Well I wouldn’t go so far as to say—.” 

   But Therese cut across her, “No, no. That’s not part of the speculation. It’s just a fact.” 

   “Fine. What’s your proof then of this _alleged_ relationship?” 

   Therese, who had been leaning against Carol’s shoulder, sat up to look her in the eye. “It just so happens that the two were spotted kissing, right on that gorgeous woman’s front porch.” 

   “Really? When?”

   “Right now, I think.” Therese leaned in slowly, teasing a brush of her lips against Carol’s, and then quickly pulled away, getting up from the swing in one swift motion before Carol knew what had happened. “ _But_ I’m sure you’re right, I’m probably just reading into things in my head. Who knows?” She shrugged and made to walk away but Carol had caught her by a belt loop and tugged her back so that Therese practically fell into her lap, and they'd made good on that particular piece of gossip. 

   Therese had dropped the subject of the two neighbors with Carol after that. However, her conviction in the idea had not waned and so she still found herself quite keen to see if there would be any new developments in this suspected romance. 

   To her satisfaction, Charlie Applewhite did come out of his house just then. “Hullo, Mimi!” he called as he bounded across the street, so obviously smitten; he grinned so broadly behind his snowy mustache. Therese couldn't hear what they said to each other, but after an exchange Mimi handed Charlie a spade and he settled down next to her. They started working the plot together, elbows brushing. Therese watched as Mimi took a flower cutting and slipped it through the buttonhole on Charlie’s shirt pocket. He in return plucked a blossom and tucked it into the band around her hat.         

   It was too precious, and Therese dropped her gaze, for the first time feeling a bit bashful at her own intrusion into this moment. It only occurred to her now that her investment in this saga marked a distinct change in herself. She was supposed to be the cynic about all this; that was the part she had always played. And yet, here she was, gawking from the sidewalk, practically gushing over the interactions of two strangers who were hardly aware of her existence. _ Therese Belivet, you finally drank the Kool-aid. You fall for one woman and you’re all hearts and mush inside now.  _

   A car horn honked, two sharp, bleating blasts that jogged Therese back into reality. She glanced up the street in the direction of the sound to see a sleek convertible rounding the corner; it was retro, long and low, a cool ocean-y blue. The sun glinted off the car’s windshield forcing her to squint against the glare. As it came closer, the light shifted, and Therese saw her. Carol, once again looking like a god damned movie star of yesteryear as she pulled the vintage car alongside the curb and up to where Therese stood. 

   Carol leaned in a little across the passenger seat. “Hey there darlin’.” She took of her sunglasses, placing the tip of the frames against her bottom lip as she gave Therese an appraising look, a hint of a smug smile just visible, pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Need a ride? Where ya headed?” 

   It took Therese a moment before she could put her astonishment aside enough to play along. “I—  I haven’t a clue, actually. I have this girlfriend who won’t tell me a damn thing.” 

   Carol smirked, reaching over further to push the passenger door open for Therese. “She sounds like a real pill.” 

   “Oh she is. _But_ , she continues to amaze me.” Therese quickly slid into the seat before bursting, “Holy crap, Carol, where did this come from?” 

   Carol chuckled. “Cyrus Harrison, you know from the restaurant, you met him and his wife Jean. It’s his, but ours for the weekend. Like it? It might be bit cold to have the top down though now that I think about it. I can put it up—.” 

   “No way!” said Therese, running her fingers eagerly over the white leather seats. “That’s half the fun in it! We can just put on extra layers if we need.” 

   “As you wish,” said Carol, sliding her sunglasses back on. “Now buckle up angel, there’s much to see. I’ve already got everything packed in the trunk.” 

   The music shop door opened once more and Dannie and Phil strolled out. Therese couldn’t help but grin at them proudly.  _ Look at me now, fellas! _

   “Well if it isn’t Thelma and Louise,” said Dannie. 

   “Yes, but I am going to try my hardest not to drive us off any cliffs this weekend,” said Carol. 

   “Good. Cause man, I’d just be so sad if anything happened.” 

   “Aww Dannie, love you too,” said Therese, reaching up to pat his forearm. 

   “No, I mean the _car._ What a waste of— ow!” Therese had thumped him. “Right, then, what I meant was take good care of her, Carol. Drive safe. Oh and, you know, make sure Therese is okay too I guess. Ow!”

   Carol started up the engine.  

   “We just came out to remind you to bring us back some souvenirs!” Phil called over the roar.

   “Like a t-shirt,” offered Dannie. 

   “Or a hat,” countered Phil. 

   “Refrigerator magnet.” 

   “Keychain.” 

   “Goood-byyye, you two,” Therese tried to cut across their back and forth, unsuccessfully. 

   “Snow globe.” 

   “Coffee mug.” 

   “A pressed penny.” 

   “Even just a postcard.” 

   Therese rolled her eyes, mouthing, “Just go,” to Carol. 

   “Or at the _very_ least, some of those itty-bitty bottles of hotel shampoo!” Dannie shouted after them as they pulled away.

   They were finally on the road. Therese felt warm with excitement and the cool air felt good on her face and in her hair. “Now will you tell me where we’re going?” she asked Carol. 

   Carol merely made a soft humming sound. 

   “I know, _You’ll see._ ” 

   “See if you can get something on that radio,” Carol said. 

   Therese fiddled with knobs on the dash, dialing through the static until she caught the raspy wails of Janis Joplin going on about Bobby McGee, and stopped there. Carol’s hand found hers and Therese settled back in her seat, watching the ocean go by as they floated down the coastal highway.

 

* * *

 

   “I thought you said we were stopping somewhere for lunch?” asked Therese, as Carol pulled off the highway and steered the car into a flat dirt clearing where a couple other cars were dotted about.  

   “I did. And here we are.” Carol replied coolly. 

   A skeptical little wrinkle appeared on Therese’s brow. “Uh… here?” 

   “Well not _here._ ” Carol reached behind her seat and grabbed the picnic basket and blanket she had hidden there. She held them up to Therese and then gestured towards the band of ocean visible beyond the wide, grassy field in front of them. “We have to walk that way a bit first.” 

   It wasn’t a difficult trek, mostly flat with only a few scattered knots of boulders they had to help each other with, handing off the picnic basket between them as they navigated over and around the rocks. Within fifteen minutes they had reached the place where the land finally dropped away, carving out sheer cliffs faces into the side of the earth. They found a level spot of rock just off the path to spread the blanket, halfway hidden by copse of sagebrush, where they wouldn’t be bothered by any other hikers. 

   It was an overcast day; the sky had turned opaque with thick layer of clouds, and a blanket of marine fog had settled low over the water in the coves below them. The tops of the great boulders that had tumbled down the cliffs just poked out over the grey. 

   Carol frowned a little as she looked down in the basin. “Sorry it’s not sunnier, you can hardly see the water right now.” 

   “Don’t be, I like it like this,” said Therese, taking a sandwich from the basket and handing Carol half. “It feels like we’re sitting in the sky.” 

_ Sitting in the sky. Fitting for an angel. _

   “How did you know about this place anyhow?” Therese went on. 

   “I went camping around here when I was in college and I always remembered it being really beautiful. I’ll have to bring you back in the spring though, that’s when it’s really prime. The whole area is covered in wildflowers.” 

   “I’d like that,” said Therese. “I didn’t know you went to college.” 

   “I never finished,” Carol grimaced. “I dropped out before my senior year, the summer Harge proposed. He had already graduated. Who needs a degree when you’ve got a husband, right?” She let out low chuckle even though there was nothing much funny about it. “God, I was an idiot.” 

   “I never went, if that makes you feel any better,” Therese shrugged. “I never had the grades for a scholarship so I just sort of figured early on that it was going to be in the cards for me.” 

   “See, but that’s just it. I _had_ the opportunity. I got almost all the way through and then I just gave it up. Threw it all away. For him.”

   Therese stared out into the clouds, and Carol watched for a change in her expression, wondering if what she had just said would make Therese resent her. The younger woman took a bite of her sandwich, chewing painfully slowly. Finally she swallowed and turned back to Carol again. 

   “Carol, I haven’t wanted to pry, cause things are great honestly as they are, but um, what’s going on with your uh… divorce? You said there were complications before and I just wondered… well I just _worried_ maybe he was giving you a hard time.” 

   Carol blinked a few times in silence, digesting the question. Truthfully, she had been wanting to tell Therese all week about her New Year’s day visit with Harge, about Harge’s lies and about the January deadline she’d given him, but the time had never seemed right. She couldn’t talk about it in front of Rindy, and then when the little girl wasn’t around, Carol had found it difficult to insert the subject into the conversation. She was almost relieved Therese was the one to bring it up now, though it did not make her at all happy to know that this had been a source of worry for her. “Harge, he’s agreed to sign everything by the end of the month.”

   Therese’s eyes got wide. “Seriously, just like that? Why on earth the delay then?” 

   Carol hesitated, and then she heard the small, “Yep, just like that,” come from her mouth as if someone else had spoken it. "He just… just wanted to make things difficult I guess, one last time.”  She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t telling Therese the real story, the lies Harge had told at work about them still being married, him trying to leverage his image of the perfect family man into a higher position, only that in that moment she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She’d been proud before of the telling off she’d given Harge, but now looking back, it seemed like a feeble act. Harge had strung her along, used her, and she basically allowed it, she was still allowing it, still letting get away with it; and the truth of that was too humiliating. She knew too that she did not want to be the cause of any more of Therese’s worries. This way it seemed more final, no strings. And it would be fine because Harge would sign the papers by the end of the month anyway. _He will. He has to._

__ “I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say in this situation. Congratulations? I mean, this is a good thing, right? What you wanted?” said Therese, dipping her head to look into Carol’s downcast eyes. 

   Carol made an effort to brighten her expression, which wasn’t too difficult when looking into the emerald of Therese’s eyes. She brushed aside her dark hair and cupped her cheek. “Yes. Of course.” She leaned in to kiss her but stopped short as something cold and wet hit her on the her nose. She opened her eyes in time to see another raindrop splash down on Therese’s shoulder. 

   It was only sprinkling, but they decided to pack up and finish lunch in the car just in case, which proved a good choice as ten minutes later the rain had picked up enough that they broke into a full run down the trail towards the car. Carol was thankful that she had put the top up on Cyrus’s car before they had headed to the cliffs.

   They both collapsed into their seats, panting and laughing as they used the blanket to dry off their rain-splashed faces.

   “I didn’t know it was supposed to rain today,” said Carol, raising her voice a little over the sound of the drumming on the convertible top. 

   Therese smirked. “Just a little something I cooked up, to surprise you for a change.” She tugged at her wet sweatshirt, pulling it off over her head and the t-shirt she had on underneath got caught with it. 

_ I should get that for her _ , thought Carol, but she didn’t make a move, her eyes pinned to the fair skin, the delicate edge of lace revealing itself. Then the sweater came off and the shirt fell back down. Carol squeezed the steering wheel hard. “Mission accomplished.”

   For a while the rain petered in and out, a pleasant patchwork of showers and bursts of muted sunshine between cloud banks as they drove along. But eventually, and much to Carol’s chagrin, the clouds above locked together, the rain falling in heavier sheets until she agreed to Therese’s suggestion to stop in the next town where they could find a cup of coffee and see if they could wait it out awhile. They stashed the car in a sheltered lot and found their own refuge in a nearby diner. It looked like it hadn't been updated since the seventies, with cantaloupe colored booths and green tiles, but it was warm and cozy inside. 

   “A freak storm it says. They didn’t expect this many inches,” relayed Therese as she checked the weather report on her phone. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop for another few hours at least.” 

   Carol groaned into her mug as she took a sip of coffee. “In that case, maybe it’s just safer find a place here to stay tonight. We can leave early in the morning.” 

   Disappointment must’ve read easily on her face because Therese grasped her free hand on the table, rubbing her thumb into the palm in soothing circles. “I’m sorry this ruined your plans.” 

   Carol shook away the feeling, focusing on the woman in front of her. “My most important plan was for us to spend the weekend together, and that’s still exactly what we’re going to do, no matter where that is. Besides, it’s more of an adventure this way I guess. I’ll look up hotels.” 

   Therese let go of her hand and pointed out the window beside their booth. “How about that one?” 

   Carol followed the direction of her finger until her eyes landed on an odd little motel across the street. It looked a bit weather-beaten, but the siding had all been painted a bright coral, so even in the dim of the rain it stood out. 'The Sand Dune Inn' was written in large script beneath a painted sun on the sign out front, the word ‘vacancy’ flashing below in red neon. “There? Are you sure?” 

   Therese grinned as she pulled a few dollars from her bag and dropped them on the table for their coffees. “You said it’s an adventure, right? Come on.” She got up from the booth and held out her hand for Carol to take.

 

__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra big thank you this Thanksgiving week for all of you who've read and been so awesomely supportive!! I am also thankful that I will be done with school come December and hopefully then it won't take me a month and a half between chapters;)


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